Trade Off
by StrongatHeart
Summary: For the annual Michalchuk Easter Celebration, Paige and Dylan need fake straight dates: each other's sweethearts. Darco and Palex, with fake Dylex and Maige.
1. Fake Dates

**Title: Trade Off**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Degrassi.**

**A/N: Yeah, I'm aware Easter is over, but whatever. This is just a really silly fic that I wrote cause I was bored. **

"So, what did you want to talk to us about?" I asked suspiciously. My eyes flicked back and forth between the two Michalchuk siblings standing in front of me. I spared a sideways glance down the couch at Alex, who was eyeing our favorite blondes shrewdly. Paige and Dylan shared a glance of their own, then addressed the two of us.

"Well―" Dylan began. "Okay, so our family has this big celebration every year for Easter."

"It's kind of a huge thing," interjected Paige. "We always have it at our grandma's house, since it's the biggest―"

"There's food, and dancing, it's just a giant party," explained Dylan.

"You woke me up at nine in the morning on a Saturday to tell me you guys are having a party?" asked Alex incredulously. "There better be something you're leaving out, or―"

"Well, actually, hon…" said Paige timidly. "There kinda is. Dylan?" she prompted her brother to continue.

"Um, well― okay, here's the deal," Dylan relented. "We're allowed to bring boyfriends and girlfriends if we want… everyone else does."

"Only― outside of our parents, our families don't know that I'm the one with the girlfriend, and Dylan's got the boyfriend," said Paige. "Our parents don't want to make a big scene by me bringing Alex and Dylan bringing Marco."

"So, no offense, guys, but we were just going to go alone," said Dylan.

"But then, our mom was talking to our aunt―" Paige said.

"Our parents have like, the biggest rivalry with her and our uncle―"

"And she said our cousins Daniel and Patricia both have dates that she was just gushing over―"

"So she said that Paige and I are both dating people, too. And that we're bringing them to the party," finished Dylan.

I blinked, my brain clumsily trying to connect what they were saying to where this involved me.

"Okay, so what, you're asking us to go?" piped up Alex.

Again, Paige and Dylan shared a nervous glance.

"Well, kind of…" cringed Dylan.

"We were kind of hoping that you guys wouldn't mind…you know, putting on a little show," said Paige, wincing as well.

"What kind of show?" I asked dubiously.

Paige sighed. "We were sort of hoping that…" she took a deep breath, then blurted it all out in once sentence. "That you would go with me, and Alex would go with Dylan."

"What?!" Alex and I both demanded at once.

"It's just for one day," Dylan assured us hurriedly. "A few hours, actually."

"I am not going with curly here. No way," said Alex resolutely.

"Alex…" began Paige. "Please, honey… I need you."

Alex cocked an eyebrow. "You know, I'd never thought I'd see the day when you'd be begging your girlfriend to date your brother."

"But it's not a _real _date," said Dylan in their defense. "It's perfect. I mean, we're all always together…we know so much about each other. We'd be able to pass as two hetero couples."

"Yeah, except for one problem," said Alex sharply. _"We're gay!" _

"Well, for Sunday evening, we're not. We're just two happy, totally-not-gay couples," said Dylan. "Come on, guys, _please? _You know we wouldn't ask if it didn't mean a lot to us."

"We just don't want to upset our parents. The people that _raised _us! That gave us _life!" _shrieked Paige dramatically. I rolled my eyes. Drama queen.

"Please?" Dylan stuck out his bottom lip, his eyes pleading with ours, his surefire way to get whatever he wanted.

I sighed. "Fine. I'll do it," I agreed reluctantly.

Dylan's pout immediately disappeared, and he quickly crossed the room to plant a gracious kiss on my all-too-appreciative lips. "Thank you _so _much, Marco."

"Yeah, we'll have no trouble at _all_ pretending we're straight," Alex said sarcastically.

"So, what about you, Nunez? Are you on board?" Dylan asked, straightening up, irresistible pout firmly back in place.

"Sorry, Michalchuk. That doesn't work on me," she said coolly.

"Really?" said Paige in sugary sweet tones. She bit her lip, blue eyes as wide as saucers. "It doesn't?"

Alex rolled her eyes, looking away. But Paige merely came closer and perched herself on the seat next to her. She seductively wrapped a lock of the brunette's hair around her finger and gave a little tug, forcing her girlfriend to look at her.

"So does this mean you're not going to do it?" Paige said, pretending to be hurt. God, was Paige just bad at the pouting trick, or was I just too love-struck to see through Dylan's flimsy attempts?

"Alex?"

Alex shook her head, but it wasn't in answer to the question. Looking as though she was doing this against her better judgment, she groaned.

"Oh, fine. I'm in."

Paige's face transformed as quickly as Dylan's had. A giant grin lit up her face.

"Yay," she said happily, giving Alex a swift kiss on the lips. "Have we mentioned lately how much we love you guys?"

"Yeah, yeah. But you are so making this up to me," growled Alex.

* * *

"See? This isn't so bad," muttered Paige as the four of us strode up the driveway to granny Michalchuk's house. Alex shot her a filthy glare.

"Speak for yourself. I can't believe you made me wear this," she hissed.

I gave her a quick once-over. "What's wrong with it? You look fine."

"I _look _ridiculous!" she said hysterically. "Yellow! How could you make me wear a _yellow dress? _I thought you loved me!"

"Not today," Paige said out of the corner of her mouth. "Today, I am madly in love with Marco."

"And as you can tell by my enthusiastic expression, I am deeply in love with Paige," I said dully.

"Can you guys do me a favor though?" asked Dylan. "Keep the PDA to a minimum. I know it's fake, but…it's weird."

"You guys, too," said Paige seriously. "Seeing my brother and my girlfriend all over each other is something that I will never get accustomed to, no matter how fake it is."

"Agreed," I said quickly. "Seeing my friend and boyfriend together isn't exactly the best feeling, either."

"Definitely. Minimum of PDA," agreed Alex. "So hands off my girlfriend, Del Rossi. Don't make me have to kick your ass," she joked. I think.

"Oh, I would never dare provoke you," I said, only half-kidding myself.

"We do have to make it look real, though," said Dylan thoughtfully. "Marco… put your arm around Paige or something."

I casually slung my arm around my friend's shoulders. "Here. How's this?"

"Still a little too…friendly," he said. "Try around her waist."

I obliged, and he gave a crisp nod. "That's better. Alex, maybe we should…"

"Yeah," she agreed, moving closer to him. He slid his arm around her, as well, and she slipped her own arm around his back.

"So, do we look…hetero?" chuckled Dylan. We all laughed, but you could still sense the nervousness in the air.

"As much as can be expected," shrugged Paige, her grin fading a bit. "You're still a little too, I dunno…"

"Awkward," I finished. She nodded.

"Yeah."

"Guess we gotta work on that," frowned Dylan. "Ah well, it's not like we're going to be like this for the entire party."

We had finally reached the door to the house, which was several times bigger than the one we currently lived in, and knocked gently.

The door flung open to reveal a woman in her mid-forties, with a giant grin plastered on her face and her trademark Michalchuk blonde hair falling around her shoulders in frizzy ringlets.

"Hey, Aunt Charlotte," Paige offered her a sweet smile.

"Paige! And Dylan!" she said, her wide smile growing even wider at the sight of her niece and nephew. "And…" she looked from me to Alex to Paige and Dylan and back, waiting for an introduction.

"This is Marco," said Paige, flashing me a smile. "My boyfriend."

"And this is my girlfriend, Alex," said Dylan. This statement was followed by a very obviously forced grin from both my boyfriend and his bogus girlfriend.

"Nice to meet you both," Aunt Charlotte said eagerly, grasping both of our hands in turn in a bone-crushing handshake. "Come on in. Your parents are already here," she added to Paige and Dylan.

With a final meaningful glance at each other, silently conversing with our eyes, we crossed the threshold into the house.

"I'm going to go say hi to Mom and Dad," said Dylan, letting his arm fall from Alex's waist. "Wonder where they are? That's one thing about this house. There's too many rooms."

"Dylan, it's Mom and Dad. Use your head. Where do you think they are?" said Paige.

"You're right. The kitchen," said Dylan. "You coming, Marco?" he asked, throwing a look back over his shoulder when he realized I wasn't behind him.

"Um, aren't I supposed to stay with Paige?" I asked quietly.

"Oh, yeah…"

"I'll come with you, Dylan," said Alex, following him out of the room.

I sighed. "You two _so _owe us," I muttered to Paige.

"Don't worry, Dylan'll make it up to you," she rolled her eyes.

"Oh, I'll make sure of that."

Suddenly, there was a loud shriek of _"Paige!" _and a whirlwind of flying dark hair as something roughly Paige's size threw itself at her.

"Um, hey, Patty," Paige tried to smile. Unfortunately, she was having some trouble even breathing with Patty's arms crushing the breath out of her like some kind of giant snake.

"Oh my God, I haven't seen you in forever!" Patty squealed. "Oh, and by the way, I haven't gone by Patty since I was twelve. Everyone calls me Patricia," she said, obviously unaccountably proud of this fact.

"Hun, I called you Patty all last summer when we came out here," said Paige.

"Yeah…" said Patty. Patricia. Whatever. "That was kind of annoying. I was hoping you'd just catch on, but you never did. Oh my God, are you still doing that 'hun' thing?"

"Um, what?" said Paige, obviously bewildered.

"That 'hun' thing you do!" insisted Patricia, as though it were obvious. "Oh come on, you know what I'm talking about. You say it all the time! It gets kind of annoying, too, actually…" she said thoughtfully.

"Okay!" I interceded swiftly. Paige already looked about ready to tear Patricia's curly head clear off. "Um, Paige, why don't you introduce me to your…"

"Cousin," said Patricia promptly, holding out a hand. I shook it, and she beamed up at me. I immediately noted the similarities between this girl and my friend and boyfriend. She had the same winning smile, the curve of her nose closely resembled Paige's, and though Patricia's hair was a dark brown, she had Dylan's curls.

"Patricia, this is my boyfriend, Marco," said Paige shortly. I couldn't help but notice the way the Michalchuk cousin's eyes took in every inch of me, almost like she was…was she checking me out? Oh, crap.

This was so not going to go well.

* * *

**Review please, and let me know if you want me to continue. I'll try to keep the OC involvement to a minimum. :)**


	2. Evil Genius

**A/N: So, next chapter :) And this one's in Alex's POV.**

I followed Dylan into the kitchen to see his parents, feeling, just as Marco had said, rather awkward. The kitchen was empty except for the two of them. I stood off to the side as Curly embraced both his parents in turn, listening to his father's playful jests about Dylan's long, unruly hair, and the younger Michalchuk's replies that at least his hair was still blonde.

"Alex! What are you doing here?" said Mrs. Michalchuk upon being released from her son's arms, obviously surprised to see me.

"Hey, Mr. and Mrs. M," I said, smiling warmly at my girlfriend's and fake boyfriend's parents.

"Uh, Mom, Dad…remember when you said to invite a nice friend-girl to be my 'date' tonight?" Dylan said cautiously. His parents just looked at him.

"Um, well… _tada!"_ he grinned, gesturing toward me. I arched an eyebrow. Did he just say _'tada?' _

His mother's eyebrows shot into her bangs. "But, I thought― you and Paige―"

I shrugged. "Tonight, she's pretending to be head over heels for Marco, and I'm―"

"_Marco!?" _

"Well, you wanted us to find dates," said Dylan. "So we just kind of…traded."

"Hmm. Well, it sounds logical to me," said Mr. Michalchuk. I almost laughed.

Mrs. M glared at him, then turned back to Dylan and me. "But isn't this weird for you? I didn't mean for you to invite each _other's_ boyfriend and girlfriend."

"But this way, we know a lot about each other. We could pass for a real couple," Dylan explained.

Mrs. Michalchuk sighed. "Well, if it works, and it's not too weird…I'm sorry I asked you two this, anyway. It's just that Charlotte…"

"I know, Mom. I've heard it all before." Was it just me, or was there a trace of bitterness in Dylan's voice? I didn't have much time to ponder on it, however.

"Hey! Look who's here!" exclaimed a loud, booming voice. I glanced up to see that it belonged to a short, stumpy man with a thinning patch of blonde hair on the very top of his head. Great. Another Michalchuk.

"Uncle Ray," said Dylan, grinning. Ray clapped Dylan on the shoulder, laughing genially.

"How's my favorite nephew?" asked the older man.

"Still your _only _nephew," Dylan said, and I laughed. This immediately brought Uncle Ray's attention to me instead.

"And who's this lovely young lady?" I caught the teasing wink he gave Dylan, and tried not to roll my eyes. What would old Uncle Ray say if he knew that Dylan's _real_ sweetheart was currently two rooms down, pretending to date my girlfriend?

"Uncle Ray, this my girlfriend Alex," said Curly. Ray grabbed my hand, shaking it thoroughly. Apparently, finger-crushing handshakes were a tradition in this family. When he released my hand, it was all I could do not to cradle my nearly broken fingers in my good hand.

"Well, you'll have to tell us all about yourself, Alex," said Uncle Ray. "And where's Paige? Is she still dating that, oh, what was his name? Twister? Is he here?"

"Spinner?" Dylan raised his eyebrows. "Uh, no. They broke up."

"Oh. Well, that's just as well. Last time he was here, he killed all our fish. To this day I don't know what he fed them, but…" Ray's voice trailed off, and he frowned, as though still bothered by the mystery.

"Yeah, that sounds like something Spinner would do," I said fairly. "But the person she's dating now is much cooler. Cute, dark hair, dark eyes…"

"Really? I'll have to meet this guy," said Ray. Guy? I don't think so. I was talking about me.

"Hey, Dylan, Daniel's been waiting for you to get here all day. He's upstairs, if you want to go see him," continued Ray.

"Sure," said Dylan, starting for the doorway on the other side of the kitchen. I followed reluctantly. He led us up a winding spiral staircase that opened up to a spacious second level. I was just wondering how long it would take us to search each of the rooms up here for the Michalchuk cousin, when a boy around Dylan's age emerged from one of the rooms midway down the hall on the left, closely trailed by a pretty, mini-skirt donning brunette.

"Hey, Dylan," he said, spotting us and grinning as he wandered over. "And…"

"Alex," I introduced myself, relieved to see that the younger generation of Michalchuks seemed to forego handshakes as greetings. "Dylan's girlfriend."

He smiled at me. "Hey. I'm Daniel. Dylan's cousin."

It was easy to miss the resemblance, if you didn't look for it. Daniel had light brown hair, in contrast to Dylan's blonde, and it sort of just hung there, falling into his cerulean eyes with no particular style to it; there wasn't a curl in sight. But he had the blue eyes, and the curve of his face looked like Paige's. The nose and mouth, though, closely resembled Dylan's. All in all, he wasn't bad looking. I wouldn't call him cute, exactly. Then again, my idea of cute tended to be blonder, rather more petite, and with boobs.

"And this is my girlfriend, Emily."

The girl, who, oddly, made me think of Amy with brown hair, nodded at us, smiling. "Hi."

"Hey."

"So, Dylan," said Daniel eagerly, "I wanted to show you this awesome game I got. My parents let me bring it and hook it up. The graphics are amazing…"

Daniel and Dylan departed for one of the rooms, and, with a glance at each other, Emily and I followed. Daniel led us into a small room with a rather tattered old couch, a TV, and a few wooden bookcases lining the walls. Daniel, Dylan, and I collapsed ungracefully on the couch, and Emily perched herself delicately on the arm.

Daniel had set up the game already, and grabbed a controller for each himself and Dylan off the floor, handing one to the blonde.

"Dude, you'll love this―"

Ten minutes later, Daniel was looking exasperated, and Dylan, simply furious. I rolled my eyes as I listened to them argue.

"Dude! You were supposed to get out of the way!"

"I'm trying!" replied Dylan through gritted teeth. "There's nowhere to go!"

Daniel gave a frustrated sigh. "You're losing the game for us. I spent two hours getting here."

Dylan looked ready to punch him. "Why don't you ask someone else to play, then?"

"I'll play," I volunteered. "Can I have that?" Without waiting for a reply, I snatched the controller from Dylan's hands.

"Hey!"

"Can it, Michalchuk, and watch a pro show you how it's done," I said, my tongue in between my teeth as I concentrated on the video game. This wasn't so hard. After years of hanging out and competing with Jay and his guy friends, I had become a video game master of sorts. I pulled a few complicated maneuvers, a small, self-satisfied grin beginning to form on my face, and the others just looked at me, obviously surprised.

"You play video games, Alex?" asked Daniel.

"Play them. Conquer them," I shrugged nonchalantly, dodging a laser and firing a solid round of bullets at my attacker. "My girlfriend says I spend way too much money on them."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Dylan's shocked, fearful expression. Crap. Had I just said what I thought I said?

"Yeah, my best girlfriend says her little brother blew a two hundred dollar check just on games," said Emily matter-of-factly. Oh, good. They'd thought I meant _girlfriend_ as in… oh good then. I was safe. I really had to be more careful about that, though.

"Well, you can take my place, Alex. I'm done," said Dylan. As if I'd even been planning on letting him have the controller back.

"Man, your girlfriend's better than you," laughed Daniel. "She just found the ammo package inside that crate."

"So?"

"So, you never even _made _it to that crate," explained Daniel. I glanced at Dylan, and snickered at the expression on his face.

"Don't worry, Curly, I'll train you in the art of alien military combat sometime," I promised, rolling behind a barrel as a barrage of bullets showered me and Daniel.

"Great," said Dylan, looking wholly unenthusiastic.

Forty-five minutes later, we emerged from the room, Daniel and I chatting eagerly, while Dylan and Emily followed behind us, looking bored.

"So, did you get Halo 3 yet?" he asked.

I grinned proudly. "The day it came out. You?"

"I wish. If only I had the cash…"

"Yeah, it cost a pretty penny, but it so worth it," I said excitedly. "Hey, did you get―"

I was cut off, however, by a voice shouting up the stairs. "Danny! Come down here!" I glanced at him, and he rolled his eyes.

"It's my mom. I'll be right back." He and Emily took off, leaving Dylan and I alone.

"Your cousin's pretty cool," I said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, he's all r― what was that?" Dylan made a quick sweep of the hallway.

"What was what?"

"Someone said 'Dylan'…"

"_Me!" _a sharp whisper came from somewhere to our right. A small, dark head poked itself out a door.

"Marco?"

"Dylan, we've got a problem…" said Marco. "Can you come here?"

I rolled my eyes. I could guess what kind of "problem" Marco might have that he would need Dylan to solve. "I'll be leaving now."

I headed downstairs, planning on making another little stop in the kitchen to grab something to eat. I had just turned the corner into the room, when I nearly ran headlong into a brown-haired, blue-eyed something.

"Hey, have you seen a guy, around this tall, dark hair, really cute? I think his name's Mark, or something?" The girl, who, if I had to make my guess, was closely related to Daniel, seemed slightly breathless, and had an almost predatory gleam in her eye.

Suddenly, Marco's "problem" made a hell of a lot more sense.

"Um…nope." She hurried past me, and I wandered over to the counter, where the food had been laid out, choosing a couple of baby carrots from the veggi-dish, and coating them all in dip before popping them in my mouth.

"Alex?"

I turned around, my mouth full, my cheeks bulging, and smiled. Well, as best I could smile anyway, with my mouth crammed full of carrots.

I swallowed hard. "Hey, Paigey."

She grinned. "You know, for some reason, I cannot get used to the sight of you in a dress."

"You won't have to. After today, this thing is getting exorcised. Then burned."

Paige looked disappointed. "But you look so…"

"Ridiculous?" I offered.

"I was going to say beautiful."

I turned away, smiling despite myself. "We'll see."

I knew perfectly well what would end up happening. I'd try to get rid of it, she'd beg me not to. I'd insist, she'd "persuade" me to change my mind. I would. Then the stupid dress would be left hanging in the back of my closet for a year. Paige is a princess. She always gets her way.

"It really does look great on you. It shows off your figure," she continued with the flattery, coming over to pick a brownie from a plate. She may be an irritating little princess, but she's my irritating little princess.

"Hey, you wouldn't have happened to have seen Marco around anywhere, would you?" she asked, chewing the brownie thoughtfully.

"He's upstairs with Dylan. I think he's trying to avoid some girl that was looking for him," I said, leaning back against the counter.

Paige groaned. "Patricia? I _knew _she liked him!" she shrieked, making me wince.

"Volume, Paigey," I reminded her lightly. "What are you talking about?"

"Tell me something…was the girl, by any chance, around our age, curly brown hair, blue eyes…"

"Yeah…" I said slowly.

"That's my cousin," said Paige matter-of-factly. "Patricia. She was totally checking Marco out earlier. And right in front of me, too."

I cocked an eyebrow. "What, you'd rather her try and seduce your supposed 'boyfriend' behind your back?"

She ignored me. "She always does this! Every time she sees something I have, she wants it. If she knew I was dating you, she'd turn gay just to take you away from me, too," she said certainly.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Don't worry. She's not my type."

"She does this kind of thing every time we're together. Once, when we were seven, I got a Barbie Dream Mansion for Christmas, and―"

I grinned. "Why can I see a seven-year-old you playing with Barbies so, so easily?"

"―and she was jealous because she'd just gotten the convertible. So she jumped on the house on purpose and told our parents she fell on it. She cried for half an hour, and everyone felt so sorry for _her, _they bought her an ice-cream."

"Still holding onto that grudge, huh?"

"Shut up," she snapped, and I popped another carrot into my mouth, grinning smugly.

"Seriously, Paige, instead of moaning to me about all this, you should be fighting fire with fire," I said when I had swallowed.

"What do you mean?" she asked slowly.

I shrugged. "Piss her off. Beat her at her own game."

"How?"

I grinned wickedly. "You are so lucky you have an evil genius for a girlfriend."


	3. The Satan Cousin

**A/N: Yeah, finally, another chapter. And this one is back in Marco's POV.**

"Dylan!" I hissed. He and Alex continued down the hallway, oblivious to my strangled whispers. _"Dylan!"_

"Yeah, he's all r― what was that?"

Finally. Dylan glanced around for whoever had called his name.

"What was what?" Alex questioned.

"Someone said 'Dylan'…"

"_Me!"_ I opened the door of the bathroom I was taking refuge in a little wider, and poked my head out.

"Marco?"

"Dylan, we've got a problem…" I said. "Can you come here?"

"I'll be leaving now," said Alex, heading for the stairs.

As soon as Dylan was close enough to reach, I opened the door the rest of the way and yanked him into the bathroom with me, quickly shutting and locking it behind him.

"Dylan, we've got a problem here," I began nervously.

"What kind of problem?" he asked, puzzled.

"I think― I think your cousin likes me," I said. Dylan raised his eyebrows in surprise, then shrugged.

"Well, who could blame them? You're way too cute for your own good, you know," he grinned.

I rolled my eyes. "Flirt later. Help now, Dylan."

He chuckled lightly. "Which cousin?" he asked.

"Patricia."

To my alarm, Dylan let out a bark of laughter.

"What's so funny?"

"I'll bet Paige is having a blast," he said breathlessly, shaking his head.

"Huh?"

To my relief, he managed to calm himself down enough to explain. "Okay, ever since we were kids, Patricia has had to be, well…better. Everything Paige has ever had, Patricia has had to have. It's this stupid rivalry thing between them. And if Patricia _couldn't_ have what Paige did, she always made sure Paige couldn't have it either."

"So…" I said slowly. "Patricia wants me because she thinks I'm dating Paige?"

Dylan nodded. "Precisely."

"That's stupid."

He shrugged. "That's Patricia."

"Okay…so what do I do?" I asked desperately.

"Enjoy it?" he joked.

"I'm being serious."

Dylan sighed, thinking. "Can't you just tell her no? That you love Paige?" he suggested.

I shook my head. "Tried that. But she won't leave me alone. She tried to kiss me."

"Tried?"

I blushed. I probably could've handled that better. "Yeah, she kept getting closer and closer, and I kind of panicked and…"

"And what?"

I cringed. "And maybe shoved a piece of pie in her mouth. And ran away."

Dylan snickered. "And she's still after you?"

"Why do you think we're in here?" I gestured around us at the tiny bathroom. Dylan gave a jerk of his head, as if to say 'point taken.' "Why is everything with your family so…not ever simple?" I demanded.

He considered this. "I think my great-grandparents made it a rule or something."

I snorted. "Well, you all follow it to the letter."

He grinned, and it was that grin of his that let me know immediately what was on his mind. He backed me up gently against the wall, his hands sliding around my waist.

"Hey, we're not all bad, are we?"

I pushed him away. "Not the time, Dylan."

Dylan rested his hands on the wall on either side of my head, as though he planned on trapping me there. "Now, see, that's where you're wrong. It's always the time."

I rolled my eyes in exasperation, easily slipping under his arm and going for the door. "Not when I'm fake-dating your sister. Who, now that I think about it, I should go find. I think Patricia tricked her into going outside for a few minutes.

Dylan looked disappointed. "But…you've been so busy this past week or so, with all those tests and everything. I miss you. I'm really, _really_ horny," he whined. "Really."

I grinned unsympathetically. "Go kiss Alex."

He glared at me. "Oh, thanks."

I opened the door, but before I could leave, he reached past me and shut it again. I turned around in surprise, but before I could even open my mouth to say anything, Dylan kissed me, and all resistance promptly failed.

* * *

I bounded down the stairs a little while later, my eyes scanning the room for the female Michalchuk sibling. I located her in the kitchen, munching on a brownie and chatting with Alex, who was perched on a bare edge of the counter.

"Hey guys," I said breathlessly, sliding up next to Paige.

"Hey, boyfriend," she said, smiling.

"You wouldn't have happened to see Patricia around, would you?" My eyes darted nervously to each of the kitchen's two doorways, half-expecting her to come bursting through one at the mention of her name.

"Actually, she's in the basement looking for you," said Alex, choosing a cookie from a plate full and taking a bite.

I relaxed. "Good."

"Marco, why's your hair all messed up?" Paige began fussing over the tousled locks of my hair, trying to groom it to look presentable. I batted her hands away.

"Leave it alone!"

"I'm just trying to fix it!"

Alex was smirking as she observed us. "Well, no one will have any doubt you two are dating. You're already acting like an old married couple."

"I had it all perfect," Paige continued, slapping my hand as I reached up to smack hers away. "What did you do, stick your head out the window of moving car or something?"

"Or something," I muttered.

"Apparently, he had a 'problem'," Alex piped up. "In the bathroom. That he needed Dylan to fix."

Paige's expression quickly went from dawning realization to horrified disgust. _"Marco!" _

I winced. "What? I was hiding from Patricia, and I couldn't find you, and he was the only other option I could ask for help," I tried to justify myself.

Paige gave me a look. "So, you guys didn't…?"

"Well…"

She groaned. _"Ugh!_ Can't you two keep your hands off each other for just a _few _hours? Really, it's not asking a lot!" she cried.

"Shh! Keep your voice down!" I shushed her.

She lowered her voice, but did not stop berating me. "I cannot believe you guys! I am going to_ kill _Dylan!" she hissed angrily.

"Look, we just made-out, okay? I didn't let it go any further. And really, you should be commending me for that. It wasn't easy," I said defensively. "Besides, we were in the bathroom. Who was going to walk in on us in there?"

"And what about when you left? Did you come out together?" Paige demanded. "Someone could have seen you then."

"We waited!" I assured her. "Actually, Dylan should be coming out right about now."

"And what if someone saw you leaving and went in right after you and saw Dylan standing there?" she asked, her eyes still shooting daggers at me.

"Paige, chill, all right? We're experts. We never get caught. No one noticed us having sex in the utility closet at graduation, did they?" I pointed out.

"What!?" Alex's shrill exclamation made me wince. "Are you serious? You guys did it in a _utility closet?"_

I blushed, shrugging, and averting my eyes. "Dylan talked me into it. We snuck into the school, and…yeah."

Alex snickered. "Maybe we should do something like that, Paigey," she said seriously, turning to look at her girlfriend. "Liven up our sex life a little."

Paige glared at her, then turned her icy blue stare to me. "Just be careful, all right? This is working great…we don't need you two blowing everything because you can't keep something in your pants."

"I told you we just ma―" I began, but Paige's surprised, falsely cheery exclamation cut me off.

"Patricia!" she said, flashing her cousin a smile that showed off every tooth. I felt my stomach sink. I turned around, and sure enough, the Satan Cousin herself stood in the doorway.

To my slight surprise, considering how furious she'd been with me a half a second earlier, Paige jovially looped her arm through mine, laughing.

"Marco and I were just talking about the _amazing _date we had last Friday," she giggled. "Why don't you tell her about it, Marco?"

I blanched, thoroughly confused and put on the spot. "Um, yeah. It was fun."

Paige's fake grin broadened. "He took me to this great restaurant, then we went dancing at the _best _club in Toronto."

Patricia gave a smile that was as transparent as water, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Wow. That sounds fun…and expensive," she added, chuckling.

Paige elbowed me in the ribs. My cue to speak up. "Oh, uh…well, only the best for my darling Paige," I said awkwardly.

Patricia grinned slyly. "Right. So, how long have you two been going out?" She was slowly closing in, sidling further into the room toward us.

"Three years."

"Five years."

My eyes widened as I glanced over at Paige. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Patricia's smirk widen.

"Well, we've known each other for five, but we've only been dating these past three," Paige tried to amend. I nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Uh-huh," said Patricia, eyeing us shrewdly. "So where'd you meet?"

This time, I waited for Paige to answer. "Work."

"Really?"

"Yeah. At… a movie theater," Paige invented. I saw Alex trying not to grin at that.

"Well, I certainly commend you on your taste, Paige." I squirmed uncomfortably under the intensity of Patricia's gaze. "He's cute."

I felt Paige's hold on my arm tighten. "And smart. And _so _hilarious. And did you know he was Valedictorian at our high school?"

Patricia's eyebrows shot up her forehead. "Really? Wow, that's pretty impressive. Smart guys are _so_ sexy," she flirted shamelessly. Paige cleared her throat loudly, and Patricia's attention snapped back to her. "So, I heard you were going to Banting, Paige. How's that working out for you?"

I forced myself not to groan. _Bad topic…_Bad_ topic…_

Paige flushed. "Uh, actually…" she swallowed hard, and I suddenly felt quite sympathetic towards my friend. "I left."

"What? You left _Banting?" _Patricia shrieked, obviously shocked by this news.

"Um, yeah, I― well, I transferred back to Toronto U. ― to be closer to Marco." One could only hope that Patricia didn't realize that Paige was making the majority of this up as she went along.

"Wow, Paige, Banting's been, like, your dream school since the seventh grade," Patricia said, looking almost impressed. "And you gave it up for Marco, huh? You must really love him."

"More than anything," Paige said quietly. It was the tiniest of movements, you could have blinked and missed it, but I was certain I saw my friend's eyes flick towards Alex for a fraction of a second. Patricia, thankfully, hadn't appeared to notice anything. Her eyes were fixed intently on me. After a moment, Paige seemed to realize this, and pulled me a bit closer, suddenly possessive.

Alex slid off the counter, slipping past Paige and I, a stick of celery in her hand. As she passed, she bumped lightly into Paige's shoulder. They shared a quick glance, and it was type of glance that spoke volumes, in the tongue of secret silent languages. Then Alex was gone, and Paige and I were left alone with the Satan Cousin.

"You know, actually…" said Paige slowly. "Marco and I were thinking about getting a house together next year. I mean, we already live together now, but we have all those roommates… it'd be just the two of us."

Patricia and I both gaped unabashedly at her. I recovered first.

"Uh, that's…that's right, _honey._ I― I can't _wait." _I stammered. I didn't like the way Paige was looking at me. It was the look I often saw her exchange with―

Alex.

Oh, no.

"Yeah, I can't wait until it's just me…" By now she was just freaking me out. Getting closer and closer and…

"…and you."

And then, several feelings seemed to explode inside me at once. Shock, disgust, and a strong desire to push my best friend from me with all the strength I could muster, as her lips met mine in a simple, innocent kiss. I wasn't sure if I was just too shocked to do anything, or if somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that Patricia was still watching, but I just stood there, motionless, until it was over. Once it was, it took a moment for my seemingly fried brain to register what was going on. Paige was giggling. Rambling on about how adorable I was or something. Patricia was looking murderous. And I was still standing there, with jelly-legs and a sudden urge to down an entire bottle of mouthwash threatening to overcome me.

"I'm going to go say hi to Dylan," Patricia spat contemptuously, turning huffily on her heel and storming out of the room.

I turned to my best friend. My best friend, who, sexual preferences, promises, and deceitful fake relationship aside, had just kissed me. I wondered vaguely if this was how Craig had felt that time I'd kissed him.

"What the hell was that? You weren't supposed to do _that!" _I hissed.

She winced. "I'm sorry. Look, I was talking to Alex, and―"

I groaned. "Oh, no. _Oh, no no._ Alex and Dylan. What are they going to say when they find out we―"

"Will you just shut up and listen?" Paige snapped. "I was talking to Alex, telling her about Patricia, and she said that if I really wanted to piss her off, I had to―"

"_Kiss_ _me?!"_ I demanded. "I mean Alex has had her share of insane ideas, and I _know _how much Patricia gets on your nerves… but us― doing _this― _look, Paige, I just can't. I'm sorry," I said.

"I _know _it's weird," acknowledged Paige. "I know. It is for me too, believe me. But I've never seen her look so mad! It's like I'm finally starting to get her back for all those years of her _always _getting the better of me," she explained, a hint of a slightly corrupt grin creeping onto her face. I swear Alex is a bad influence on her.

"But, Paige, c'mon. You can't seriously think the best way to do that is us putting on a nice little hetero-display-of-affection every time she walks in the room?" I said desperately.

"It doesn't _mean _anything. If we can just get past the awkwardness…"

"Okay, even _if _we could manage to suck it up and get past that…what about Alex and Dylan? What about our minimum-of-PDA rule?" I reminded her.

She shrugged. "Well, it was Alex's idea, so I don't think she'd have a problem with it. And Dylan knows the deal with me and Patricia. You could convince him to let me mess with her."

"Yeah, but that would actually require me wanting to do this."

"Marco, come on! You know you could do it," she pleaded. "You can get Dylan to do anything! And Alex is okay with it...if it's in the name of messing with someone's head. You can get Dylan to agree."

"Quick question: was Alex, by any chance, high at the time she suggested all this?"

Paige scowled at me. "No," then her face softened into an expression of thoughtfulness. "But you know, it is _really _scary how far she'll willingly go to piss somebody off."

Inwardly, I made a note never to get on Alex's bad side. I sighed heavily. "If…" I began through gritted teeth. _"If― _Dylan is okay with it…"

Paige eyed me hopefully.

"…I'll go along with it," I agreed reluctantly. Honestly, the things I did for the Michalchuk siblings.

Paige flung her arms around me, squealing happily and thanking me profusely.

"God, you owe me double time now," I said as she nearly choked me with her boa-constrictor hug.

She rolled her eyes, finally releasing me. "No, I just owe you. Dylan already took care of our first debt to you for the date swap thing up in the bathroom."

I stuck my tongue out at her. "You don't plan on making this up to me that way, do you?" I joked.

She looked disgusted by the very idea. "Ugh. No. I was going to buy you dinner."

I laughed. "So, any ideas on getting past that feeling of vomit rising from the pit of my stomach next time you kiss me?" I joked.

She smacked me on the shoulder, glaring at me. "Excuse me! You know, kissing you wasn't exactly my idea of fun, either."

I scoffed, indignant. "I've never heard Dylan complain," I said haughtily.

She snickered, shoving me playfully as she strode past me. "I never really did think much of his taste."

* * *

**Paige, how could you insult Marco's gorgeous-ness!? Lol. **

**So, was it worth the wait? I promise I've got some more drama planned later on. ;)**


	4. Milestones

**A/N: I'm baaaackk, lol. Thanks to a deal with xXxHinataUchihaxXx, plus her threatening to stab me with spork if I didn't update, I got the next chapter done, finally :D lol. I was kind of stuck on this fic for a while, but it's amazing how the threat of being stabbed with a spork can clear up a case of writers block :D **

I hurried out of the kitchen, slipping easily through the crowded house in my search for one particular person.

"Hey, Alex!"

Shit. That wasn't the one particular person I'd been searching for.

Figuring that the voice had called loud enough and the room was quiet enough that I could not convincingly pretend I hadn't heard, I halted in my tracks and spun around to face Daniel, who was hurrying toward me. His eyes were wide blue orbs as he approached, and for the first time, it occurred to me that he wasn't quite as old as he seemed. I mean, at first glance, and even after having hung out with him for nearly an hour (not that I'd exactly been paying him undivided attention), he seemed to be a least a few years older, maybe around Dylan's age. Now, it hit me that he still had that kind of boyish look, especially when he was bounding toward me with his eyes as wide as saucers. Now, I'd guess he was still in high school. Maybe senior year, but high school.

"Alex," he caught up with me, pausing to catch his breath. He'd obviously scurried through the house just as fast as his little high-school-kid feet would carry him.

"Hey," I said coolly, trying to mask my impatience to get moving. I was a lesbian on a mission.

"So, we never got to finish talking," he shrugged, his hair falling into his face.

"Right. Um, sorry to cut this short, but I really need to use the bathroom," I lied.

He looked surprised. "Oh. Yeah, sure. Um, down that hall there, third door on the left."

I quickly thanked him, then made a beeline for the hallway he'd gestured to, desperate to get out of his sight. Just outside the bathroom he'd pointed me to, I glanced back, and saw that he had disappeared. Good. Now to find Dylan.

I was at least fairly certain that he would understand the brilliance of my plan to help Paige get back at her cousin, that is if _I _explained it to him. The problem? I didn't want any of this getting back to him before I got the chance to tell him myself. And with Little Miss Bitch running around, there was every chance that might happen.

I whirled around a corner, and nearly had a head-on collision with Mr. Michalchuk himself. He didn't appear outwardly violent, confused, hurt, or anything else to suggest that he had just heard about his boyfriend and sister kissing in the middle of the kitchen.

"Dylan! Just the man I was looking for," I said, pulling him into, ironically, as it was where I was actually supposed to be at the moment, a bathroom. How many of these thing were there throughout the house, anyway?

Okay, _now _Dylan looked confused as I shut and locked us inside the tiny room.

"All right, Curly, listen up, and promise you won't interrupt," I said gruffly. I didn't need him freaking out on me half way through my explanation.

"All right," he said slowly. He looked suspicious, and I couldn't fairly blame him. I would be too, if I were dealing with the evil genius that is me.

"Okay. Okay..." I said, trying to figure the best way to tell him this. Perhaps it was like removing a band-aid, best done quickly.

"Okay," I said again, taking a deep breath. "Here's the deal. Paige and Patricia don't get along."

"Yeah, no ki-"

"What did I just say about interrupting me?"

Dylan snapped his mouth shut again. You know, I will really have to pay close attention to some of the other people at this party, and find out if it's all Michalchuks that talk too much, or just the two I know.

"Anyway. Paige and Patricia don't get along. Patricia is totally jealous of Paige and Marco, and she's developed this insane psycho crush on him." I paused here, half-expecting Dylan to interrupt again. He didn't, so I continued. "And I thought it might be fun to...mess with her head." I shrugged.

"How?" Dylan asked. I ignored the fact that he had spoken again when I'd told him not to, and answered anyway.

"By making sure she sees Paige and Marco all over each other every time she walks in a room."

I seriously thought he might faint. Wimp.

Dylan didn't faint, but he did sink onto the toilet seat, which I noticed was decorated with some shaggy pink material. Actually, the entire bathroom was incredibly pink, even, if I do say so myself, more so than Paige's frilly, girly bedroom, which I was constantly begging her to redecorate. I swear, if we ever bought a house of our own together, I would personally ensure that every scrap of lace, every pink satin pillow, every last frilly rug the girl owned was mysteriously lost in the move. She could move in with Marco if she wanted pink satin pillows. He had never minded them. As I remember, he and Dylan had actually argued about the presence of a similar pillow in their own bed. Eventually, Dylan had gotten his way when the ruffled thing tragically disappeared, much to Marco's displeasure, who had passionately insisted that it was the perfect combination of comfort and style.

I live with two princesses.

"So, are you okay with this?" I asked Dylan impatiently. Did he have to be so dramatic? Really, they were his gay boyfriend and lesbian sister. Did he really think he had anything to worry about?

"I—I don't know, Alex," he said seriously. "I don't think I like the thought of them like that... much less walking into a room and _seeing..._"

I rolled my eyes. "Look, it's just business, okay? A way for Paige to finally win a battle against her cousin."

Dylan still looked uneasy. "But I don't know if I can be okay with it. Did they...do anything yet?" he asked hesitantly, as though he really didn't want to know the answer.

"They kissed. Once," I said reluctantly. "Well, Paige kissed Marco. Marco just kind of... stood there."

"You watched it? And it didn't bother you? Not even a little bit?" Dylan almost sounded hopeful.

"I watched from the next room, just to make sure Paige went through with it. And it was my idea in the first place. I mean, I don't particularly _like _it. At all. But, if it helps Paige out, then what the hell?" I said, trying to play it casual. Okay, so it was more than a little weird, watching the love of my life and one of my best friends since high school kissing each other full on the lips. But as long as I retained control over the little psycho-emotional monster in the pit of my stomach, and listened to the voice of reason in my head, I would be fine.

He sighed heavily. "Oh, God. _Fine,"_ he agreed. I grinned in satisfaction. Phase Two of operation Bring Down Patricia: Complete.

"Good," I said, relieved. "Now let's get out of this bathroom before I choke on the potpourri smell. I think they must have lined the vents with it or something."

Dylan laughed lightly, standing up and following me out of the bathroom.

"Dylan! Alex? Were you just—"

I nearly jumped in surprise at the voice. I glanced up to see Uncle Ray waddling toward us, his face a odd mixture of amusement and sternness. I looked up at Dylan, merely seeing what I like to call the "oh, crap" expression on his own face.

"Uncle Ray...hey," Dylan said weakly.

Ray glared down at us appraisingly. "Did you two just come out of there together?" he asked.

"Um, she was just..." Dylan began, but his voice quickly faded out into nothing when he realized that he had no convincing excuse to offer.

"Dylan." Ray was now staring at Dylan with a sort of nostalgic pride. The kind of look your parents get during those really big moments in your life. What are they called? _Milestones._ They give you this look...half unbearably sad that you're no longer the little kid you once were, half proud that you're now the grown person standing in front of them.

Anyway, that was exactly the way that Ray was eying Dylan. The older man swung an arm around his nephew's shoulders.

"Dylan, we need to have a talk. Man to man. Uncle to nephew," he said decidedly, tightening his grip on Curly's shoulders. Dylan looked at me, helpless.

"You wouldn't mind giving us a little time to chat, would you, young lady?" Ray addressed me.

"Uh...no," I said, trying to convey an apology to Dylan using only my eyes. "Go right ahead."

So, leaving Dylan and his uncle to talk, I turned around and headed in the opposite direction. Shuffling down the hallway and back around the corner near which I'd ditched Daniel, I literally came face to face with... well, I couldn't quite tell who it was at first, seeing as I was a bit preoccupied with colliding with them. I really needed to start checking around corners first before whirling around them at top-speed. It had been cause for more than a few accidents lately that could otherwise have been avoided.

"Emily," I said once we had both regained our balance and politely apologized.

"Alex," she said coolly. Okay, was it just my (probably overactive) imagination running wild again, or was she _actually _giving me the death glare? "I was just looking for you, actually." No, there glare was certainly present. I had gotten it from Paige enough during our pre-relationship years to know what it looked like.

"Really? What for?" I pretended not to notice the icy chocolate stare, going for my trademark casual attitude. I had found out over the years that it was, for the most part, the best way to cope with pretty much anything and anyone, no matter how trivial or earth-shaking, in your life. Casual indifference. Or at least, the facade of casual indifference.

"I wanted to talk to you. Come here." My curiosity getting the better of me, I allowed her to lead me down the hallway away from the slowly crowding room behind us, into a little sitting area near a window, containing two worn, ragged armchairs and a scratched and banged up coffee table that had obviously seen better years. The room was empty except for the small black cat stretched out on the back of one of the chairs. It lifted its head as we approached, its eyes sliding over us calculatingly. Tentatively, in case it objected, I reached out to stroke its head.

Emily was watching me idly. She seemed to be doing some quick and serious thinking; her brow was furrowed and her teeth tugged at her bottom lip.

"Her name's Midnight," she said softly, her eyes never leaving me.

I smiled. "Hey, Midnight." The small cat purred and leaned into my hand as I scratched the top of her head.

"There's another one running around here, too. Boots," commented Emily. "Daniel's grandma got them the last time I was here. I named Midnight myself."

I didn't ask what was with the random tidbits, figuring she'd either explain it to me when she decided to stop being so damn mysterious, or not at all, and she was just mentioning what she considered to be an interesting fact.

"They've been here for a year and a half," she continued. _"I _was here a year and a half ago. Were you?"

I frowned, unsure where exactly this was going. I was beginning not to like not knowing what the hell was going on with this girl.

"What do you mean?" I asked, unable to think of anything else to say.

Emily finally averted her eyes, which flickered momentarily toward the hallway. "Were you here a year and a half ago? When did you come into the picture?" she elaborated.

"Well...I started dating Dylan...about a year ago, I guess," I invented. Paige and I had moved in together a year ago.

Emily nodded absently. "So, I was here first. Before you." She looked up at me, and her brown eyes seemed to blaze. "And I'll be here after you."

All right, now I was officially lost beyond all hope. "What?" Again, it was really all I could come up with.

The brunette took a step closer to me. I had about three inches on her height-wise, but there was no denying the cool fury of the girl. She was the kind of person most people underestimated. Harmless enough, in her preppy little top and flirty mini-skirt, petite build and relatively diminutive height, she was the last person in the world you'd expect to have any considerable amount of physical strength and skill. Nevertheless, I could tell...by the way she stood, the white-hot electricity radiating off of her...that she could definitely hold her own, should the need arise.

It was the same thing when I'd fought that Nelson girl. No one would ever know it by looking at her...hell, even _I'd _underestimated her... but she'd had a hidden reserve of strength, it seemed, somewhere inside of her. In my mind's eye, I pictured a little wooden crate, shoved haphazardly in the corner of some dusty, long-forgotten room, the words _Hidden Strength: Emergencies Only _written clear across the front.

Emily took a deep breath. "I want you to stay away from Daniel."

Okay, that was certainly unexpected. _"Pardon?"_

"I said, I want you to stay away from Daniel," she repeated coldly.

Okay, so I had heard her correctly. "Um...any particular reason why?"

"Look, I don't know what it is about you..." she looked me up and down in cool appraisal, as though to emphasize that she really didn't see anything remotely remarkable. "But Daniel hasn't stopped talking about you since the whole video-game-bond-session."

I laughed. Couldn't have stopped it if I wanted to. I didn't pause to think that it was a bad idea. Then again, when did I ever? Now that I finally understood where she was coming from, I could not possibly find the situation funnier.

"Look," I said once I had gotten my laughter under control. "If you think I'm trying to...steal your boyfriend or whatever...you've got it all wrong. Besides, I'm with Dylan, remember?" I pointed out.

"So? You have a boyfriend. That didn't stop Erica Hanson from my chemistry class from dating the school football captain, and still hitting on Daniel when I wasn't around."

I raised my eyebrows. Erica who? And what the hell was this supposed to have to do with me? "And that involves me...how again?"

"All I know is that I am not losing the simultaneously smartest and sexiest guy I've ever dated to some punk rocker chick who thinks that mascara is the name of the new My Chemical Romance album," she spat venomously.

I gaped, honestly surprised at her sheer nerve. Oh, this chick was asking for it.

However, I was here for Paige. And Paige would kill me for kicking someone's ass, subsequently causing a scene and humiliating her in the albeit satisfying process. I kept my thoughts focused on my girlfriend as much as possible as I replied. Not with my fist, as I would have liked, but settling for a calm, reasonable response that Father Marco would have been proud of. Well, at least the shy, timid little Father Marco from grade ten. I distinctly remembered my friend punching out that homophobic asshole from that 'Soul Club' or whatever the hell it was during that safe sex thing he hosted a few years ago. I had really wanted to at least give that prick a bloody nose myself, but Paige had restrained me then, reminding me later that I was already one slip-up away from being expelled. Still...I'd just wanted the nose. And I figured a black eye would suit Emily well. Couldn't Paige let me have just a_ little _something for my trouble once and a while?

"Look, Emily...I'm not trying to steal your boyfriend, okay? We were just talking about video games. That's all, I swear." Trust issues, much?

"Right. And now he's somewhere looking for you!" she said dramatically, gesturing wildly with her arms. Midnight seemed to have had enough of us both, and stretched lazily before leaping from the chair and bounding off. "You think just because you have _one tiny thing _in common with him, suddenly you've got him? I don't think so, bitch." She had leaned close to me, the last part coming out in a dangerous hiss. "He's mine."

I met her gaze evenly. I may not be able to hit her, or convince her that I was not after her boyfriend, but I refused to back down completely and become some docile victim of her sore attitude.

"I don't want him." I had to try one last time. Whether she believed me or not was her prerogative. But oh, God, if she only _knew _how much I didn't want him. Or anyone from his gender in general.

"Just stay away from him." And on that final note, Emily turned and stalked off, leaving me standing alone, shock, exasperation, anger, and frustration all battling for dominance in my head.

Really, who could have guessed we'd have gotten into so much trouble at one tiny party?


	5. No Pain, No Game

**A/N: So I think there's going to be just a couple more chapters after this one, depending on how things work out. I'm not sure how I want the last chapter to happen just yet.**

"Marco!"

I jumped, spinning around on the spot to see who had called my name. My stomach gave a little lurch of its own when I saw that it was my boyfriend, looking stricken as he came toward me. I had been searching for him myself, but I couldn't honestly say that I was glad to see him. Now I was going to have to explain the whole "Get Back At Patricia" plan to him, a conversation I was not looking forward to. To be on the safe side, I glanced around me to make sure no one was within hearing distance from us. As it was time for lunch, and everyone was therefore either in the kitchen getting their food or outside eating it, we were gratefully alone.

For a split second, I thought Dylan had already heard about my kiss with Paige earlier. He crossed the room in three short strides, and grabbed my arms roughly, looking desperate.

"Dylan, what—?"

"Marco, you've got to help me," he whispered urgently, his eyes wide. I was pretty sure Dylan would be demanding an explanation rather than help if this was about the kiss, so I decided that it must be something else he was freaking out about.

"What? Dylan, let go," I said irritably, pulling out of his grasp. There must be some sort of Michalchuk gene that ensures that each of them will be exasperatingly dramatic about everything. "Look, I need to talk to you about something..."

"Talk later. Help now," he whined.

"It's important," I said firmly. I took a deep breath, and plunged in. "Look, there's this thing between Paige and Patricia..."

Dylan held up a hand. "If this is about the whole 'get-back-at-Patricia-by-making-her-jealous-by-you-kissing-Paige' thing, I know all about it."

I raised my eyebrows, a weight lifting off my shoulders. "You do? How?"

"Alex told me."

_Thank you, Alex, _I thought, glad my friend thought to have my back in this particular matter. "So, you're okay with it?"

Dylan nodded, a hint of his usual smirk playing on his lips. "As long you stay gay—and mine—we're good."

I grinned. "Well, considering I've been gay for nineteen years, I don't think that's going to change anytime soon. So, what's this horrible problem you have?" I asked curiously.

His expression changed from amused to panic-stricken at the speed of light. "It's my Uncle Ray. He's been—Marco, he's been giving me _'The Talk',"_ Dylan explained.

I stared at him uncomprehendingly. "The talk?" I repeated.

"You know..._the _talk," said Dylan again, as though it were obvious. At my continually blank expression, he went on.

"He saw me and Alex coming out of the bathroom together after she took me in there to tell me about you and Paige...he thinks we were...you know...using it for pretty much the same reason you and I were using the upstairs bathroom earlier. And possibly more."

My eyes widened to twice their usual size. "_What?_ Are you serious?"

Looking miserable, Dylan nodded again. "It's_ torture! _It's like...every sex ed video you ever saw, and more," he shuddered. "I just got away. I managed to distract him with a strawberry pastry."

Now I consider myself a very sympathetic person. My mother has always said that I have been that way since day one. That I cared more than most people did. But now, with my boyfriend obviously having gone through one of the most traumatic experiences of his life, I did the only thing I could possibly do in a situation like this.

I laughed my freaking head off.

Dylan glared at me. "Oh, shut the hell up, already," he snapped at me. I was leaning on the wall for support by now, weak in the knees, and his anger only caused me to laugh harder, so that I had to sink into the nearest chair to avoid actually falling over.

Finally having enough, boiling over with misery and frustration, Dylan reached over to me and—

"Ow!" My hand immediately went to my stinging forehead. "I can't believe you _flicked_ me!" I cried, indignant.

"I can't believe you're laughing!"

"It's funny!"

"So was flicking you," he said reasonably.

"Okay, I'll stop. Jerk. You didn't have to flick me. You know if I get a bruise there, that could be considered domestic abuse," I pointed out huffily. Okay, so maybe I had my dramatic side as well.

"Divorce me."

"Shut up."

"Fine. I'm sorry I flicked you. Now will you help me?" Dylan pleaded.

At the reminder of Dylan's "problem," my lips began to twitch again in amusement, and he shot me a warning look. I sighed. "What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know... just make it stop,_ please._ If I hear one more word out of his mouth about condoms, or... or _satisfying your partner's needs... _I swear to God I'm going to hurl."

I stifled another giggle, and tried to appear understanding. "Well, I have no complaints, as far as the 'satisfying your partner's needs' thing goes..."

"Good to know, but still not helping."

I shrugged, choking back more laughter. "Just try and avoid him," I suggested.

"But he won't leave me the hell alone!" Dylan said shrilly. "He keeps giving me that _look, _and calling me '_young man' _and '_son.' 'Son, when I was your age...' 'It is the responsibility of a young man like yourself...' _I can't listen to anymore! I'm half tempted to tell him I'm gay just to shock him into silence."

"Don't do that," I advised him. "Paige'll kill you if Patricia finds out I'm not really her boyfriend."

"Speaking of Paige and Patricia..."

"What?" I followed Dylan's gaze to the aforementioned Michalchuk women, the latter of which was pulling a tall, sandy haired guy along by the hand. "Oh, no," I groaned. "Hide me, Dyl."

Dylan glanced back at the small group approaching us. "I would, but I got to go, um...be anywhere but here."

I glared at him as he sped off in the opposite direction. I couldn't really blame him for not wanting to stick around for the show, but still...it was his damn fault I was here in the first place.

"Baby!" Paige squealed, throwing her arms around my neck as soon as she was close enough. She gave me a great big smack on the lips, and stamped on my toe as my cue to wrap her in a reciprocative hug.

"Hey, honey," I said, forcing a smile.

"Marco, sweetie, this is Anthony Goldman." Paige said, gesturing behind her at the guy Patricia was dragging along. Sandy hair and dark eyes. Sharply angled face. A little bit of stubble. Dressed in black. Exactly the kind of 'on edge' look I would have figured Patricia would go for.

"My boyfriend," interjected Patricia, her smile as fake as the kind doll's mouths were painted into. "He's graduating from university this year. Top of his class."

Anthony gave her a cool look, as though that were all news to him. "Yeah," he said dimly.

"So, what do you major in, Anthony?" Paige asked curiously.

"Um..." he glanced at Patricia. "Psychology."

There was something in his dull monotone of a voice that made me highly doubt that Anthony even knew how to spell psychology, let alone study it.

"So, what exactly are you studying now?" Paige continued.

"Uh...you know...the human mind and...stuff it does, and...stuff." Anthony shook his shaggy hair out of his eyes. I glanced at Paige, my eyebrows raised and my mouth half open. She had a similar look on her own face, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing..._was this guy for real?_

There was an awkward silence as we all tried to think of something intelligent to say. Or, in Anthony's case, just something to say in general.

However, we were spared the trouble.

"Hey, kids, come on in the living room!" Paige's aunt...frizzy-haired Aunt Charlotte... burst into the room, her face sweaty and pink and her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to catch her breath. "Come _on!"_ she said again insistently, bounding off back the way she had come.

"Is she—always like that?" I asked hesitantly. The last time I had seen someone bursting with such unlimited energy was at my five-year-old cousin's birthday party after all the kids had eaten the cake and were racing around on a seemingly endless sugar high.

"Always," replied Paige and Patricia together.

"She has more energy in her little finger than an entire lightening bolt," Patricia added, rolling her eyes.

"Come on...lets go see what she wants," said Paige, taking my hand and pulling me along. My mouth dropped open at the sight in the living room.

Music was blaring from the old record player in the corner. It seemed Paige and Dylan's grandma had kept a lot of her stone age sound equipment around. A stack of records was perched on the edge of a nearby table, teetering dangerously as the Michalchuk family danced around it.

No, seriously, they were dancing. Not just any dance, either. They had a conga line winding around the length of the room, around the couches and chairs and tables...laughing and just generally acting like...well, like Michalchuks. A few stragglers were perched haphazardly on the arms of the sofas and armchairs, sipping sodas or finishing off their food, or else standing in corners, attempting conversation over the pounding music. The rest were clumsily falling over each other in laughter as they danced the conga around the living room.

"You know, when you said there was dancing at these things...this isn't exactly what I had in mind," I said into Paige's ear.

She grimaced, offering me a pained sort of half-smile. "Yeah, every so often someone'll get really drunk and start one of these. And the rest of them are either drunk enough or weird enough to go along with it."

"Ah." My eyes followed the line of dancing people warily. "You're family is insane." I said decidedly.

"I'm aware."

I looked over at Paige again. Her eyes were narrowed as Patricia pulled Mr. Einstein himself out to join the conga line; the former of which not-so-subtly glanced back at us.

"Come on, Marco. We're dancing," said Paige quickly grabbing my wrist again. Having no choice but to follow her, I quickly got into the swing of things as the family continued to dance their way around the living room, eagerly accepting the new arrivals. My hands rested on Paige's hips in front of me. I scanned the crowd again. No sign of Dylan or Alex.

"Marco," Paige hissed. "Kiss me."

I looked over at Patricia and Anthony for a moment, who had stopped dancing and were locked in a passionate lip-lock. I braced myself, then leaned forward and pressed my lips against Paige's as she turned to kiss me over her shoulder, the line of dancing Michalchuks going right past us as we paused. I tried my best to imagine that it was my boyfriend's lips pressed against my own, but I just couldn't manage it. Their kissing styles were too different, for one. Dylan's was typically more tender, sometimes rough but still sweet, whereas Paige's was rather domineering, rather like the woman herself. Not to mention that everything about Dylan's lips and body felt entirely different, naturally, than his sister's.

We broke apart for air, and I relished the break. Passionately (though albeit reluctantly) kissing my boyfriend's sister, my best friend in the world, a girl, really had _not _been on my to-do list for today. Or any day. Speaking of lists, I was busy making a mental one in my head as I leaned down to kiss her again.

List of things to pick up from store:

-Milk

-Soap

-Shaving cream

-Pack of #2 pencils

-A case of amnesia.

Yes, that last one would do nicely. I was going to need it if I was ever going to erase this horrifying memory from my mind, which I was already sure was going to haunt me until my dying day.

Okay, so I'm being slightly dramatic. But to my defense, I've hung out with Queen Dramatica herself for five years, it was bound to rub off on me eventually.

"Let's get back to dancing, sweet pea," Paige cooed, yanking me back into the conga line. I'm pretty sure a 'Happy Birthday' streamer flew past our heads as we rejoined the line. All Michalchuks should be locked in mental institutions.

And speaking of people who needed to be locked in mental institutions...

I jumped when I felt a pair of hands squeeze my sides playfully before starting to massage gentle circles into my skin. I broke the kiss with Paige and threw a quick glance over my shoulder.

My heart sank when I realized who was standing behind me, now teasingly toying with the hem of my jeans, fingers tickling my sides.

"Paige," I muttered into my friend's ear. "Patricia's behind me."

"Hmm?" she said absently, now concentrating solely on maneuvering around the coffee table.

"Patricia. Is. Behind me," I repeated, my eyes going wide when I felt a body press itself a little closer to my back.

I'm pretty sure Paige saw red right then. She grabbed my neck roughly, forcing my lips down to meet hers. I wiggled a little, trying to lighten the slightly painful grip on my sides. The hands were crawling slowly upward, spidery fingers working over the fabric of my shirt. They had reached the top of my stomach again before Paige suddenly halted in her tracks. Unprepared for the sudden stop, our lips were torn apart as I ran right into her, nearly falling over my own feet as I struggled to regain my balance. Then I felt something hard collide with the back of my head, and heard a wail of pain.

Everyone in the room turned around to look. Patricia was cupping a bloody lip, staring up at everyone with teary blue eyes. Simultaneous, slightly panicky voices filled the air at the sight of the blood, all asking in some variation for an explanation or assurance that Patricia was okay.

"I'm fine," she insisted, wiping at her now trembling lip, blue eyes threatening to overflow. "I'll be right back." With a final glance my way, Patricia turned and hurried out of the room, still clutching her bleeding lip.

My conscience, meanwhile, was in the middle of a fierce debate with the rest of me. On one hand, I had less than zero desire to go and see if Patricia was okay. Frankly, the idea of being alone with her again terrified me. But at the same time, it was kind of my head that she'd hit with her face. Conscience claiming the battle, I turned to follow her, but Paige's hand caught mine.

"Where are you going?" she demanded.

"I'm just going to make sure she's okay. She hit my head," I shrugged. "It's the decent thing to do."

Paige sighed in exasperation, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. "You and your damn conscience, Del Rossi."

"You and your damn _cousin, _Michalchuk," I replied, and resigning myself to the task at hand, strode out of the room after Patricia.


	6. Angel and Devil

**Chapter Six: Angel and Devil**

**A/N: Second to last chapter, I think, and this one's got a little Palex in it :D **

**Warnings: Little bit stronger language than in the past chapters. Just a fair warning. Though this is rated Teen and I'm sure most teens have heard as much before, lol. **

_Alex_

I was still battling with my combined shock and fury at my little conversation with Emily, AKA Bitchface, when I set out to search for Paige a few minutes later. I wasn't sure what I hoped to accomplish by telling Paige what had occurred, perhaps I just needed to vent and relay to her that her cousin's girlfriend was fucking insane. Or maybe there was a tiny part of me that hoped she'd give her permission for me to kick Bitchface's bitchy ass.

I could hear a commotion coming from the living room, and went to check it out.

All right, what I just said about Emily being insane? Scratch that. The_ entire freaking family _belongs in a loony bin.

At least a dozen of them. Dancing the conga around the living room. What the hell had I gotten myself into by kissing Paige the night of that premiere party? Was this what I'd signed up for? I_ might_ have been able to excuse this particular event, and blame it on them all being drunk. Maybe. I mean, after all, Paige couldn't be held accountable for her family's insanity.

But then I saw her. In her blue little dress with her hair all curly and pulled back from her face. For a split second it occurred to me just how strikingly gorgeous she was, before I realized what she was doing.

You guessed it. The conga. Around the living room.

She was grinning, having the time of her life, laughing and dancing around between her equally weirdly insane relatives. I made a quick scan of the room's occupants, Daniel and Emily were nowhere to be found. Likewise, Patricia and Marco were absent, as was Dylan. Come to think of it, I hadn't seen my fake-date since I'd left him to chat with his uncle.

Not about to start dancing like a fool with the rest of them, I merely strode right through the middle of the room, forcing the chain of Michalchuks to break as I pushed passed them. Finally reaching my girlfriend, I poked her impatiently on the arm.

She glanced over at me, and her face brightened. "Alex," she said happily. "Want to join us? Get in behind me."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Not likely. Come here, I need to talk to you."

I spun around and marched back through the crowded room of people falling over each other and giggling, some considerably intoxicated, some merely weird that way, and knew without even looking that Paige had listened to me for once and followed.

Once we were free of the Michalchuk mob, I grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the thankfully re-deserted kitchen. I barely had time to appreciate how adorable, and rather, if I do say so myself, sexy she looked with her cheeks all flushed from dancing and her hair tousled and falling out of the clip at the back of her head. But I wanted to say what needed to be said before we were interrupted.

I tossed a glance back the way we had come. "Quick question, is Dylan, by any chance, the _only_ sane Michalchuk alive?" Couldn't help asking that first, as it was quickly becoming a increasingly strong suspicion of mine.

Paige looked surprised. "Um, hello?" she gestured to herself.

I shrugged. "Like I said, is Dylan the _only_ sane Michalchuk a-ahh!" I broke off when she shoved me in the shoulder, nearly causing me to fall back into the table of desserts behind me. Unable to resist my now cackling girlfriend, I reached over to grab her around the waist, spinning us around until she was the one with the table digging into her lower back. I playfully forced her backward, until her pretty blond curls were dangling an inch above a mouth-watering plate of fudge.

"Stop!" she cried, still giggling and pushing me off of her. I let her up, smirking affectionately. Sometimes I think if I could hear that laugh and see the accompanying smile every day for the rest of my life, I could die a happy lesbian.

_Okay_ then.

_When _had I become such a damn _girl? _Apparently, falling madly in love had made me a bit mushy. Or maybe I just needed to stop reading Paige's vomit-inducing-sugar-level romance books and go back to trashy magazines. Or, for that matter, stop hanging out so much with her, Marco, and Ellie and start spending more time with Jay. I was getting far too soft these days.

"Alex, you know we can't be like this here," Paige whispered, but she was still smiling. The moment gone, I suddenly remembered why I had dragged her in here in the first place.

"Look, Paige, I think your cousin Daniel may be in danger," I said tentatively.

A look of sweet confusion was immediately plastered across her features. "What are you talking about?"

"His girlfriend," I began. "Is freaking insane.I'm talking solitary-confinement, psycho-bitch _insane." _

Paige was a mixture of bewilderment and barely concealed amusement. "What _are _you talking about?" she repeated. "Emily? I met her last time I was here. She seemed nice."

"Nice?" I said incredulously. _"Nice? _Are you_ serious? _She practically threatened my life!" Okay, maybe that was a _little _over the top. Whatever.

"Alex, _what _are you—" she began for the third time.

"Talking about?" I finished. "I'm talking about how she nearly tore my head off for talking to her freaking boyfriend!"

"Shh! Keep it down," Paige hushed me. "Why would she do that? Just for talking to Daniel?"

"Me and him were talking about video games earlier, and now apparently he's been talking about me non-stop. So now she thinks I'm trying to steal him from her," I explained, my aggravation returning. "I told you, she's got issues."

Paige let out a long, low breath, leaning back against the table. "Wow."

I nodded. "Yeah."

She absently began to play with a strand of her hair, twisting it around her finger as she considered this new information. Her hand moved up to feel the side of her head where the hair was falling out of the clip, and reached back to undo it. I watched as she combed her fingers through her hair, smoothing it back. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth as she concentrated on getting it in its proper place.

"Here. Let me do it," I offered, taking the clip from her. She turned around and let me run my hands through the neat blond ringlets, soft as an angel's. And after all, that was what Paige was to me.

Oh yeah, I was _so _calling Jay later.

"So what exactly did she say?"

"You mean once I finally understood what she was talking about? She told me to stay away from Daniel. Then she called me a bitch who thinks mascara is the name of the new My Chemical Romance album."

"Ooh, they're coming out with a new album?"

"_Focus, _Paige," I said, rolling my eyes.

"But, you're supposed to be with Dylan," she said, picking idly at the wood of the table. I gently pulled her hair back behind her head, positioning the sleek black clip in the middle.

"Yeah, apparently she thinks I'm cheating on him."

"I can't believe she had the nerve to talk to you like that."

The quiet but obvious anger in her voice made me smile. "I can't believe the nice people in white coats haven't come to take her away yet."

Paige snorted. Finally succeeding in fastening the clip, I began tugging out a few strands from the front so that they framed her face. Just how she liked it.

"Finished. Turn around."

She obliged, and I couldn't resist kissing her lightly on the lips when she did. To my disappointment, she pulled away almost immediately.

"Not here, okay?" she muttered, looking apologetic.

"If Marco and Dylan can do it, why can't we?" I whined.

"Exactly. I told Marco off for it earlier. What kind of hypocrite would I be if I turned around and did the exact same thing?" Paige asked.

"A cute one," I flirted shamelessly.

She shook her head. "Just...give it another hour and a half, all right? We'll be leaving soon."

"You're way too rational, Paige. You need to learn to live in the moment," I said seriously. She backed up a step as I slowly moved closer to her. "Come on, the whole threat of being caught is what makes it so fun. It's a _thrill." _

"It's what's going to get me murdered by my parents if someone walks in on us kissing in the middle of the kitchen."

"So we'll go find a bathroom or a closet or something like Marco and Dylan did."

"Hon, being in a closet is the whole reason that I _can't _kiss you right now," Paige pointed out.

I merely flashed her a smirk. She had backed up as far as she could go, and was now standing with her back against the wall. She frowned, and deciding that there had never been such a perfect moment, I leaned forward and covered the delicate pout with my own lips.

Despite all her previous resistance, I soon found her kissing me back quite eagerly. As usual, she tried to dominate, and as usual, I won with incredible ease. Paige's natural kissing style mirrored her personality. Fierce and dominating, yet with the slightest tenderness that made you feel like she really _meant _it. However, I had long since come to the decision that not being in absolute control for once was good for Paige. She was with me, I would take care of her. She needed to learn to relinquish her tight hold on control and power and trust someone once in a while. Namely, me. After all, I sure as hell didn't plan on anything happening to Paige while she was in my care, and I intended to get her to relax and just submit to what was natural. A difficult and scary thing for Paige, I can understand, given all she's been through. But that's also exactly the reason she, of all people, needs to know she can trust someone and let it all just happen, while she's safe and protected and loved.

Finally, we broke the kiss, and I smiled, satisfied. A little taste of Paige was all I ever needed to calm me. It was like the effects of several bottles of beer all wrapped up in the disguise of perfect lips and the sweet taste of coffee. Only Paige's favorite white chocolate mocha's, of course. My princess didn't drink any other kind.

Paige gave a soft sigh, her breath tickling my face. "Okay, Nunez, you got what you wanted," she was trying to sound bitter and grudging, but the effect was somewhat destroyed by the way her lips kept twitching as they fought off a grin.

"Yeah, but your kisses are kind of like potato chips, Paigey, you can never have just one."

She laughed. "Well, I'm sorry to say one is going to have to be enough for now. And look, as for this Daniel/Emily thing...just try and avoid both of them as much as possible. We'll be out of here soon enough."

I frowned at the change of subject. "So I don't get to kick her ass?"

Paige scowled and hit me on the arm. _"No, _you don't get to kick her ass." I pouted. She rolled her eyes. "That's my job later."

I laughed, knowing she was kidding but still appreciating the sentiment that she would kick someone's ass for me. "So I guess we should be heading back to our 'dates'," I said reluctantly.

"Guess so."

"Where is yours, anyway?" I asked curiously.

"Somewhere with Patricia, after she accidentally slammed her face into the back of his head when we were all dancing in the living room," Paige said._ There _was the bitterness she'd been going for.

"Are you serious?"

"It wouldn't have fucking happened if she hadn't been _right _on top of him. Evidently she's never heard of personal space."

I arched an eyebrow, surprised at Paige's language. Well, not the language itself so much as that fact that it was Paige using it. My angel wasn't always so innocent. She could be quite a little devil when she wanted to be.

"So where's yours?" she asked me.

I hesitated. "I'm not entirely sure," I said slowly, a crease forming between my eyebrows.

She laughed. "Great. Well, we'd better go and find them. Who knows what trouble those boys are getting themselves into. I'm so glad we know how to behave at parties," she joked, airily waving a hand in mock superiority.

I chuckled. "Oh yeah. We make friends everywhere we go."

Just then, the sound of loud, pounding footsteps and ragged gasping made me look up.

Marco stood in the doorway, clutching at his chest, wide-eyed and looking deathly pale.

"Paige, Alex...oh shit..."

"Marco, what the hell happened?" I demanded, pushing myself off the wall away from Paige, who looked alarmed.

"Patricia, she...oh God she saw..." Marco stammered, still trying to catch his breath.

"What? She saw what? A shooting star? J Lo? The future? All three?" I joked, my voice rising with mock hysteria. Neither Paige nor Marco seemed to find it funny.

"She saw me and Dylan kissing."


	7. Game Over

**

* * *

**

A/N: Okay, this was supposed to be the last chapter, but there's going to be one more just to tie it up a little better. And POV wise it's kind of crazy—it goes between Paige, Dylan, Marco's, and Alex's POV, lol. And in no particular order. I wanted a little of all of them, especially the two Michalchuk sibs for this chapter. Sorry, I tried to make it as non-confusing as possible.

* * *

_Paige_

I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach. I had to force the words out, they didn't seem to want to leave my throat.

"W-What?" I choked out. "What the hell do you mean she saw you kissing?" I glanced at Alex, who was biting her lip, light-hearted attitude gone.

Marco looked as guilty as a child who had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar before dinner. "I'm sorry... I was following Patricia to make sure she was okay, but before I got to her, I ran into Dylan, and I_ really _didn't mean for it to happen, it just kind of...did, and... I'm _so _sorry."

I closed my eyes, wishing I could block out the world and go back to a few seconds ago when I'd been blissfully kissing my girlfriend. "Oh, God, Marco... how could you?" Okay, so I really had no room to talk, but still. We hadn't been caught. Not like the two of them. Therefore I had the right to be upset.

"I'm sorry," he said again, looking pained. "I'm so, _so _sorry."

"What is she going to do?" Alex spoke up.

"She's trying to find you, Paige," Marco tilted his head toward me.

"Great," I said sarcastically. "So she can rub it in my face that my boyfriend is gay and cheating on me with my brother." If the situation hadn't been as serious, I might have found that particular statement rather amusing, if only because of how utterly ridiculous it really was.

"She's not going to tell anyone, though, right?" Alex demanded of Marco.

He winced.

Oh no.

"Well..."

"Marco!" I shrieked, promptly losing every bit of what was left of my composure.

"God, I'm--"

"Don't you dare say you're sorry again!"

Marco held up his hands. "Okay...what do you want me to do?"

"Oh, I think you've done enough!" I said heatedly. I could feel my lungs struggling to bring in the necessary amount of air for me to breathe. My chest was tightening, my breath coming in quick gasps. Perfect. A fucking panic attack. Just what I needed.

Alex's cool hand on my arm brought me back, like an anchor, my lifeline.

"Breathe, Paige, it's okay," she murmured. "It's not that bad, it's all right."

I sank down into a chair, fighting my impulse to totally freak out. Well, even more than I already was.

"Marco, go...try and run some damage control, please," Alex ordered him calmly. Marco nodded, and with one last apologetic look, disappeared. Alex continued to mutter soothing words, rubbing my back gently as she tried to coax me into calming down enough to get some air traveling in my windpipes.

For next year's party, I was making sure I had to work.

* * *

_Marco_

Guilt and the slight edge of panic tore at my mind as I hurried room from room on a desperate search for Patricia Michalchuk. I was so intent on finding the brunette, I almost didn't notice when my boyfriend slipped right past me. Evidently, neither did he.

"Dylan," I called, and he spun around. After having been discovered, he had agreed to go and find her and try to talk her out of doing any damage, while I informed Paige.

"Did you find Patricia?" I asked hopefully, catching up with him.

He shook his head. "No, but Daniel said she was in the living room looking for Paige."

"Let's go."

I followed at his heels as we raced for the living room as fast as we could without running. We reached the room in a matter of seconds. The record was still playing in the corner, but the conga line had dispersed. The remaining guests were all grouped around the walls, a few on the sofas, all chatting animatedly, obviously so far unaware of any jaw-dropping family secrets. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"There she is," I said, my stomach flipping several times over as I spotted Patricia opposite us, her eyes hungrily searching for my friend. Dylan and I set off across the room. She looked surprised to see us, but a smug grin didn't hesitate to make itself at home on her lips. The lower of which was sporting a painful looking bruise in the corner, courtesy of the back of my head. My stomach sank another few inches as my guilt intensified slightly.

"Patricia, look, we need to talk to you," Dylan said, grabbing her arm and steering her, not so gently, out of the room. She looked scandalized at being handled so roughly, and jerked her arm free of his grasp.

"What?" she snapped, glaring up at Dylan.

"Look, you can't tell anyone about...about what you saw, okay?" he said hopefully.

Patricia sneered. "And why shouldn't I? He's cheating on your sister," she said icily, jerking her head at me. "And you're betraying her, too."

"No, it's not like that. At all," I tried to explain. I sighed, looking over at Dylan. He nodded, so I continued. "All right, the truth is... Paige and I aren't really together. Neither are Dylan and Alex."

Patricia's mouth genuinely dropped open in surprise. "What?" she said again. "Then, why--?"

"_We're _together," I gestured at Dylan and me. "So are Paige and Alex. Paige and Dylan's parents didn't want the entire family to know they were gay, so they asked them to bring along a couple of fake hetero dates instead," I explained.

"Paige is gay?" There was a look of dawning comprehension on Patricia's face.

"Yes."

"And so are you?"

"Yep."

"And she's dating _Alex?" _

"Right."

"No one else knows?"

"Just their parents."

A wide grin was slowly starting to form again. She looked as through she'd just been informed that Christmas was scheduled to come twice this year. Meanwhile, I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

What the hell had I just done?

* * *

_Alex_

I winced as Paige's grip on my hand tightened, silently cursing Marco and his horny boyfriend for their lack of self control. Well, not that I was exactly a master at curbing my impulses, but they had gone and gotten themselves caught, and now my girlfriend was sitting here having one of her panic attacks, thanks to their apparent inability to exercise some self restraint.

"Alex?" Paige finally managed.

"Yeah, babe?"

"Go help Marco, please. I don't really trust him to fix this. He'll just end up making everything worse," she rolled her eyes.

I nodded. "You okay, then?"

"Fine. Just fix this," she pleaded with me.

"Okay. I'll take care of it. I promise," I said, rising from my kneeling position on the ground next to her. I kissed her on the forehead and headed off in the direction that Marco had disappeared.

I saw a flash of dark hair up ahead slipping into the living room, and darted forward. He was too far to call out to, but I could get to him before I lost him in the crowd if I hurried.

Unfortunately, I hurried right into one of the only people who could possibly have made the situation any worse.

"Alex! There you are, I've been looking all over for you," Daniel's cheery voice greeted me. Damn kid.

"Yeah, look, can we do this later?" _Or, not at all? _"I'm trying to find my friend Marco." I didn't mean to sound so rude and impatient, but I considered helping stop my girlfriend's cousin from spilling one of her deepest secrets to everyone in her entire family to be a _bit _more important than Daniel's _Halo _stats.

"Oh," Daniel's face fell. "Yeah, but I just wanted to ask you if I could have your e-mail. See, I belong to this club that sends you the latest game updates and info if you join. I thought you might be interested. I could send you the sign-up information, and you could join and..."

"Yeah, okay, sounds great."

"But you didn't give me your--"

But I had already taken off.

"Alex!"

I sighed, frustration settling itself firmly under my prickling skin as I turned around to answer to the feminine voice that had called my name.

Oh perfect. The _only_ other person, besides Daniel, who could possibly have made this any worse.

"So, I'm not sure if you're forgetful, or just incredibly stupid," the honey sweet tones were at complete odds with the furious expression on Emily's face as she strode toward me. I really did not have time for this.

"Emily, look, I'm _not _trying to steal your freaking boyfriend, okay?" I said, my voice wavering with the effort of filtering out the impatience. Where the hell did she come up with these conclusions? Psycho.

Emily leered. "Well that's good, I mean it's not like you'd even have a chance."

Right. She's not threatened at all. That's exactly why she told me to stay the hell away from Daniel.

Bitch.

"Frankly, I'm a little surprised you'd go for someone so obviously out of your league," she continued. My fingers tightened instinctively into a fist at my side. "You should really learn how the whole dating chain works, hunny." I really didn't like her using that word. 'Hunny.' It reminded me too much of Paige's trademark 'hon,' and this chick didn't deserve to have anything in common with my girlfriend. "Daniel wouldn't go for stuck up, wannabe punk trash, anyway..."

And that was where I lost it. One minute, my fingers were turning white with the pressure from being curled too tightly into a fist, and I was biting my tongue, fighting against every instinct in me to haul said fist into Emily's pretty little face.

The next minute, something had snapped and I found myself doing just that, with the only somewhat conscious thought to ring out of the naked anger and frustration was that Paige was going to kill me for doing this.

* * *

_Dylan _

I was panicking. My thoughts chased each other around my head and everything inside me seemed to have melted into pure nerves.

Patricia was going to spill our secret, and all because of some stupid childish rivalry between her and my sister. There was no doubt in my mind that she would do it, anything to hurt Paige, no matter who else was brought down in the process. Patricia was so senselessly venomous sometimes.

We had tried bargaining with her, Marco and I. We had tried explaining the situation. We had even, much to my reluctance, pleaded with her not to tell, to keep it to herself. Thanks to that, I was now nursing a very sore and indignant pride, and for no good reason, as Patricia had made it quite clear that she still intended to make the announcement of our deceit as soon as possible. I had suggested to Marco that we attempt threatening her into silence somehow, but he had immediately shot that idea down.

Now we were somewhat desperately searching for my parents, hoping they might be able to lend a hand with the situation. I sped along the hallways, Marco right behind me, until I found my Aunt Charlotte gossiping with Uncle Ray.

"No, Marco, let's turn around, please," I begged, stopping dead in my tracks at the sight of my uncle.

He rolled his eyes. "Just come on."

I reluctantly followed him over to my aunt and uncle. I cleared my throat to announce my presence, and they immediately looked up.

"You wouldn't have happened to have seen my parents anywhere around, would you?" I asked shortly.

"Oh, they went to the pharmacy with your grandma to pick up her medicine. You know she doesn't like to drive if she can help it. Her friend Lori usually drives her, but she's got a broken ankle," said Uncle Ray gruffly.

I blanched. "They're gone? Both of them?"

"Well, yeah. Your dad said he'd take your grandmother, and your mom went along for the drive. They should be back pretty soon."

I nodded. Of all the times to disappear and leave us stranded alone fighting a losing battle...

"Oh, and Dylan, just keep in mind what we talked about earlier," said my uncle, winking. "He's quite the ladies' man," he said conversationally to Aunt Charlotte's questioning look.

Marco must have seen the look on my face, which, if I had to guess, was something that mirrored absolute horror, because he gently laid a hand on my shoulder and began to steer me away from my relatives.

"Come on, Dylan, lets go find Paige."

* * *

_Paige_

Finally managing to compose myself into a somewhat rationally thinking human being, I took a deep breath and stood up.

_Okay, okay, okay... it's not that bad...she's just going to divulge your secret to every single member of this family, who are going to find out that not only are you their gay niece/granddaughter/cousin/whatever, but that you're a big, fat, lying...well, liar, but it's really not that bad..._

Just then, a strangled cry interrupted my racing thoughts. I hurriedly made my way toward the source of the noise, wondering what the fuck else could _possibly_ go wrong in one day.

I had to ask.

"Alex!" my voice must have gone up at least an octave. There was my girlfriend. And there was my cousin's girlfriend. The latter was clutching her nose, which was bleeding profusely and had already started to swell. The former was standing there, wiping a trace of blood off the side of her lip.

I stood, looking from one to the other, horror struck, and trying to fight off the beginnings of another impending panic attack.

"What the hell did you _do!?" _I cried, though it was really quite obvious. So much for just avoiding Emily.

Alex looked about as guilty as Marco had a few minutes ago. "Well, Paigey, see what happened was... um..."

"She's a fucking _psycho!"_ exclaimed Emily, who was trying with little success to stop blood from dripping all over the carpet. Alex appeared to have gotten in a pretty impressive hit. She had come off better, at least, than her adversary. A small cut was visible on the side of my girlfriend's lower lip, but it looked thin and shallow.

Huh, I think I just described Patricia.

Anyway, I didn't imagine for a second that they'd been finished with each other. In fact, if I hadn't walked in, I had a feeling they'd be madly tearing each other limb from limb by now.

"Well, _she's _a fucking delusional bitch," Alex replied coolly.

I gave a hopeless wail of despair and shut my eyes again, still trying to fend off the renewed assault on my lungs.

My eyes flew open at the sound of a raised voice coming from the living room. I exchanged a glance with Alex, and we both took off, Emily right behind us.

What I saw nearly sent me into cardiac arrest.

* * *

_Dylan_

My eyes met Paige's across the living room, and it was one of those rare moments we had where we said it all without a word.

We were so going down. Both of us. And there wasn't a single thing we could do about it. And if it wasn't here and now, it would just be another place, another time. And the fear and anticipation, knowing that she had that secret over our heads, would be worse than anything.

I broke the gaze and my eyes settled instead on the mastermind behind the unraveling of our perfect plan, who was fervently attempting to get everyone's attention. It wasn't proving difficult, and I rolled my eyes; Patricia's fake angelic smile looked more like a leer to me.

"Attention, everyone! Listen up!" Finally, everyone quieted down to listen to what she had to say. "Okay then," her smile widened slightly as she looked around the room at our relatives, all eyes focused intently on her, obviously pleased with the effect she'd created.

"Well, I'd just like to say that I am so incredibly lucky to have family like you all," she began. I'd bet my freaking house those tears in her eyes were forced, too. "It's a really good feeling...to know that there are so many people who'll have my back when I need help. And of course, in return, I'm there for them..."

I wasn't quite sure how she planned to get where she was going from this point, but I figured it wouldn't be long before I found out.

"There's a really special bond that family have...love, loyalty, _trust..." _Patricia continued. The careful emphasis on the word _trust _hadn't gone unnoticed by me, nor, judging by the look on my sister's face, by Paige, either. I felt a small hand intertwine with mine, and I squeezed Marco's hand back. Didn't really matter now, anyway.

My eyes flicked back to Paige for just a second, and I saw that her hand was tightly clasped within Alex's. Everyone's attention had settled politely on Patricia, and no one took any notice. I also observed that Emily was standing behind my sister and her girlfriend, and that her nose seemed to be bleeding heavily. Wonder what that was about.

"In fact, I think the most important thing in any relationship is trust. I know I trust my family. After all, if you can't depend on them, who can you depend on?"

Inwardly, I wondered how all this must sound to the rest of the family who had no idea what this rant of Patricia's was about. More than a little strange, I expected. Well, it would make sense in a minute, when she outed us to them all. I took a deep breath, trying to mentally and emotionally prepare myself for the potential repercussions of this.

"Personally, I would _never _lie to any of you," Patricia said sincerely. Well, what seemed to be sincerely, anyway. Manipulative little sneak that she was, I doubted very much that truths were the only words to slip through her lips.

"And I'd like to think that you would never lie to me," she took a deep breath, which I was pretty sure was just for dramatic effect. "Which is why I think you all deserve to know...there are two members of this family that have been keeping a secret from us all, and I think it's about time it all comes out in the open."

Patricia took one last look around at all the upturned faces, now hanging on her every word. "See, Paige and Dylan...they have a secret they've been keeping. So, I'm just going to say it..."

"Wait a second!"

Immediately, everyone in the vicinity turned to the source of the outburst, trying to see who had deprived them of hearing what had promised to be a particularly juicy piece of family gossip.

To my surprise, Alex had released Paige's hand and was striding toward the middle of the room to stand next to Patricia, who looked nervous and bewildered by this interruption. I glanced down at Marco, who was looking equally surprised. Alex leaned close to Patricia's face, and spoke just loud enough for me to be able to understand.

"I don't think so, bitch."

She spun around to face the rest of the family. "No, you know what?" she addressed them all. "If anyone is going to tell you all the most interesting piece of gossip that's none of your business that you're going to hear all year, it's going to be me. I've had enough of you pushing around the people I care about," she shot back at Patricia. Alex flashed Paige a reassuring smile before going on.

"So, _I'm _just going to say it... Paige and Dylan? Yeah, the thing is, they're gay. And for that matter, so are the supposed 'dates' they brought along, which would be me and Marco over there," Alex said casually.

Marco discreetly attempted to scoot behind me as all eyes were momentarily cast towards him at Alex's gesture. By the time all the expected gasps and hushed, whispered conversations had begun, he was a faint shade of pink.

"Actually, Marco is really dating Dylan. And I—" Alex marched determinedly back across the room of gaping idiots to Paige, who looked simply dazed. Then, drawing several more gasps, whether of shock, disgust, or something else entirely, I wasn't sure, the brunette kissed my sister squarely on the lips. "Am dating her."

"Yeah, and you know what?"

Okay, this had to be the biggest shock of the evening. Marco, seemingly drawn in by Alex's surge of daring and cool indifference to my family's reactions, was glaring up at Patricia, challenging the rest of them to say a word against us. He was obviously, and quite humorously, nervous about being the center of attention at the moment. It was quite apparent to anyone how awkward and uncertain he was with all eyes on him. Nevertheless, it meant more to me than I could ever say that my boyfriend was willing to speak up on my behalf.

And it _shocked _me more than I could ever say when he suddenly reached up and pulled me down to him, kissing me firmly. We broke apart with a satisfying smacking sound, and he returned his indignant gaze to the now completely stunned audience. _"That _is what you should have been seeing this whole time. Not the lame-ass performance of a happy heterosexual relationship we've been putting on all night."

Paige looked as surprised as I felt, and Alex was beaming at us both from across the room. Patricia, however, having had both her fun and her crush-of-the-moment wrenched out from under her, was looking furious and pouting like the whiny brat that she is. Maybe that was a horrible thing to say about my own cousin, but cousin or not, she'd created a hell of a lot of trouble for us.

* * *

_Alex_

You know, I don't think I have ever been prouder of Marco. I mean, he's not exactly the type that does well under pressure, something he and Paige have in common, I think.

But his little rush of pride, his desire to show them all the plain naked truth, all the while forcing it in Patricia's deserving face, was as amusing as it was a proud moment for me. Who do you think taught him to be a defiant, in-your-face little prick?

After all, you're not really an evil genius until you've successfully corrupted at least _one _innocent soul.


	8. Sweet Side of Revenge

**A/N: Last chapter :) And Alex and Marco finally get their revenge at the end. :D This one is a little different on POV too, it goes from Alex to Marco and back to Alex. Sorry I keep switching like this, lol. **

_Alex_

"I can't believe you punched her."

"She called me wannabe punk trash."

"I still can't believe you punched her."

I shrugged, leaning forward to rest my head in my hands, slumping forward on the kitchen table.

"She deserved it," I said reasonably.

Paige rolled her eyes, but I could see her trying hard not to smile. "Yeah. She did."

"You can't tell me you never totally lost it and hit someone. I remember you at Degrassi. There was that Santos girl, the Christian cheerleader chick..." I began to tick them off my fingers.

"Okay, so I haven't exactly been a saint," said Paige, exasperated. "That doesn't mean you had to go and hit her. You could've broken her nose."

"I tried to."

"I know."

"So, where's our other bestest new friend?" I asked, swinging my feet casually backward and forward under the chair. "Psycho-bitch number one?"

"Patricia? Don't know. Don't give a damn," Paige replied, shrugging.

I nodded sagely. "You've finally begun to learn, young one."

"Learn what?"

"Not to give a damn."

"Ah."

I sighed, beginning to get bored. We had been sitting here for nearly five entire minutes. "Where are Marco and Dylan?"

"Saying bye to everyone. That is, as long as they didn't get stuck in some bathroom along the way," Paige rolled her eyes in exasperation.

I laughed. "We could be here a while."

Paige smiled. "If they're not back in five minutes, me and you are finding a coat closet of our own."

I grinned, stretching back in my chair. "In that case, I sincerely hope they found a nice bathroom to make out in."

"Ew. My brother, Alex, my brother," she reminded me, looking disgusted.

"Sorry."

I sighed again, drumming my fingers impatiently on the table. The day had been entirely too long, and way too screwed up even for us. Well, maybe not...insane things seem to happen to us regularly. We certainly seemed to have developed a habit of attracting psycho's and less-than-desirable situations. I blame the Michalchuk's. It seems to be a policy that to love them is to get roped into at least three embarrassing, painful, or downright insane situations a year. All in all, it's worth it, though. I'm sure Marco would agree.

Anyway, right now all I wanted to do was leave the madness behind and go home, call Jay like I had promised myself, then perhaps sit and watch _Saved By The Bell _with Paige and Marco, who had recently converted my girlfriend into an avid fan. Okay, so maybe we wouldn't actually "watch" so much as make out...but those were mere technicalities.

"Hey."

I looked up, and raised my eyebrows coolly, holding my tongue and letting Paige take the lead on this one.

She looked up at Patricia standing in the doorway, looking oddly out of place. Paige nodded at her once.

"Hey."

Patricia walked slowly toward us, and sat down across from me. Her gaze immediately dropped to her lap, her mouth half-open, as though she wanted to speak, but was quickly thinking better of it.

"I don't suppose you came to apologize?" Paige asked bitterly.

Patricia closed her mouth again, but didn't look up. "Apologize for what?"

Paige actually laughed, a dry, humorless bark of laughter. "Oh, I don't know...for trying to steal my supposed 'boyfriend,' for trying to out me and Dylan to our entire _family..."_

"Are you really gay?"

I watched this exchange curiously. I wasn't quite sure where it was headed, but it intrigued me to no end. I didn't get the feeling that Patricia was genuinely sorry for everything she'd caused, but something was definitely on her mind.

Paige waved a hand, a disbelieving smile still etched onto her face. "Yeah. Why?"

Patricia took a deep breath, obviously bracing herself for something. "There's this podcast thing at school. We take hot topics and argue our points, and this week's topic is what some people see as the moral dilemma of homosexuality," she said professionally, and I got the idea that she'd worked all this out in her head beforehand.

"Is this going somewhere?" Paige interrupted rudely.

Patricia seemed to have to force herself to swallow a biting retort at Paige's interruption, along with a whole lot of pride to say what she did next.

"So... I'm of the opinion that...well, that there's nothing wrong with it. I was wondering if—you might look over some of the points I've got...if there was anything you could think of to add... from a gay woman's perspective, you know..."

Paige arched an eyebrow skeptically. "You want _me_ to help _you?" _

I didn't blame her for being incredulous. This chick had some nerve asking Paige for help now.

Patricia sighed. "Look, it's not for me, okay? A lot of people listen to this show, and it's proven over the years to have quite a bit of influence. This isn't between you and me...it's a bigger thing, you know?" she tried to explain, shrugging. She bit her lip hopefully as she looked at Paige.

She shook her head, closing her eyes briefly. "I'm not sure."

"Please?" Patricia implored her. "I told you, this is a big thing. It could really mean something for your whole...community. You can even...I can get you a spot on the show if you want," she offered, looking resigned. "You can come and debate with the rest of us. We normally just have five of us who do the show, and we're all straight...it could be good to have a person who's actually gay doing a show about homosexuality."

Paige frowned in thought; she appeared to seriously considering. "Really? You can get me on the show?"

"Sure."

Paige took a deep breath. "Okay."

Patricia's face brightened. "Seriously?"

Paige nodded, appearing rather annoyed. With herself for agreeing, or with Patricia for simply being here in her presence, I wasn't sure, however.

"Yeah. I'll do it. You have my e-mail from about...what was it? Four years ago? It's still the same. Send me any info I need later, okay?"

Patricia grinned widely. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll do that. Thanks, Paige," she said, standing up. "But, if I tell everyone you're coming, and we come up with questions for you or something, like an interview... you'll have to make sure you show up... so we're not left with lots of extra time with nothing to talk about," she warned. "It's Monday the tenth, can you do it then?"

"Don't worry. I'll be there. Just get together everything you need to tell me and send it to me via e-mail, okay?"

"Will do." Patricia started for the doorway, then stopped mid-stride and turned around. "Oh, and Paige?"

"Yeah?"

The brunette's face was one of pure internal anguish as she seemed to struggle with herself. "I _am_ really..."

I cocked an eyebrow as I waited for her to finish her sentence.

Finally, she seemed to give up and concede defeat. "I'm really glad you're doing this."

Paige merely gave a jerk of her head, and Patricia left us in peace.

I didn't waste a second, rounding on Paige the moment Patricia was gone. "What the hell did you say 'yes' for?" I demanded harshly. "After everything she did? Well, _tried _to do?"

Paige shrugged. "Well, it's like she said... it's bigger than us. She put her pride aside to ask me for help. I can do that, too. This could be a good thing."

I suddenly felt very sick to my stomach with concern. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Paige Michalchuk?"

"I'm right here, Alex," she pointed out.

I laughed humorlessly and shook my head. "No...no, the Paige I know would've ground that bitch into the dust with some brilliant insult... and laughed about it. She would _not _have actually agreed to _help _her freaking_ nemesis..." _

Paige stared at me. "Aren't you being a little dramatic?"

My eyebrows shot up my forehead. "Have you _seen _you in action?"

She sat back in her chair, her arms folded across her chest. "Look, I'm not doing this out of kindness, or because I want to help her, and I definitely don't forgive her... I'm doing it because I finally got what I want. I one-upped Patricia, and now she will always remember that even after the sleazy stunts that she pulled, _I _was the one big enough to help _her _afterwards, when she needed it."

Okay, now _I _was staring, my mouth hanging wide open as I mulled over this piece of information. "So... you're doing it to feel like the bigger person? Like you came off better?" I could kind of understand that. Maybe.

"Something like that," Paige said.

"_Okay..." _

But Paige had tilted her head back in her chair so that she was facing the ceiling, her eyes closed, looking more at ease than I had seen her all day. Maybe this was just some weird Paige-thing that she needed to do. And if that was true, then I was just going to have to accept that my girlfriend was totally insane.

Ah, Paige Michalchuk: One of the great unsolvable mysteries of the world.

Said great unsolvable mystery sighed. "Alex?" she asked miserably, as though hating herself but resigned to say what she must.

"Hmm?"

"She's counting on me to be there...making a spot and time for me on the show and everything. If I don't show...she's left with an awkward situation, too much time on her hands, and probably a few disgruntled co-podcast-staff members. Of course, they'll probably be able to cover," she said reasonably. "Sounds like they've been doing this long enough. But it wouldn't look good, and it _would _be quite an inconvenience if I didn't get the info with all the details."

"So?"

Paige's easy smile was wrenched into a smirk. "We live an hour and a half away, she doesn't have my phone number as far as I know... and I haven't used that e-mail address in three years."

* * *

_Marco_

I smiled as I stood off to the side, watching Dylan say good-bye to various family members. I'd already said my farewells, and was just observing as each of them hugged my boyfriend or clapped him on the back, some of them muttering in his ear or offering him a grin of their own. As a result, Dylan was beaming himself by the time he made his way back over to me.

"Ready to go?" he asked, habitually swinging an arm around my shoulders.

I nodded, smiling up at him. "So...how's everyone been?" I asked quietly as he steered me gently toward the front of the house.

Dylan shrugged. "Fine, for the most part. I think I made my Grandma kind of nervous, and Uncle Ray looked like he just had a heart attack...but other than that, no real problems."

"Good. And none of them hate me, right?" I asked tentatively. One thing I'd learned—not particularly from my own experience... but from a few friends' and such... was that people often had a tendency to look for someone else to blame for these sorts of things. Typically, the person dating whoever had just come out.

"Course not," Dylan assured me. "Who could ever hate you?"

"Oh, I can think of a few people."

Dylan's arm tightened around my shoulder. "Well, we're pretty much in a Michalchuk-inhabited space here...and you seem to have a pretty positive impact on us, going from past results."

I laughed. "Yeah, you're right. You do all love me," I said in mock arrogance.

He snorted. "We do, for some reason." Which earned him a smack on the shoulder.

"Hey," he said softly after a moment.

"Hmm?"

"I want to thank you," he said sincerely. "For sticking up for me...and Paige too... we both really appreciate it."

I smirked. "Yeah, you guys so owe me and Alex."

"We really do," he agreed. "So, Mr. Del Rossi... what will be the preferred method of payment?" he grinned.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll think of something," I said airily. Upon catching the over-enthused expression on his face however, I was quick to extinguish any sense of hope residing in my boyfriend.

"Oh, you're not getting off that easy, Michalchuk," I laughed. "Actually, as far as your payment is concerned...you won't be getting off at all. It's far too enjoyable for you...and considering everything you put me through you're going to have to work a hell of a lot harder than that."

Dylan visibly paled.

_Alex-- Later at Home_

"Hey, Marco, pass the chips," I said, holding a hand out lazily for the bowl.

Marco didn't even glance up from the television screen on which his eyes were glued. "Dylan, pass Alex the chips," he ordered.

"It's empty," groaned Dylan, peering into the bottom of the bowl.

"Oh. Whoops," Marco said, peering into the bowl himself as though to make absolutely sure. "Dylan, go get some more chips."

Dylan scowled. "But Paige hasn't gotten up for the last half an hour. Isn't it her turn to do something?"

"Sorry, Dylan, Paige is a bit busy at the moment," I said, reclining further back into the pillows arranged carefully behind me. I wiggled my toes peeking out the bottom of the blanket thrown over me as I stretched, yawning lazily.

Paige clenched her teeth together. "Alex," she said in a voice of forced calm. "I told you before: you have got to stop moving. I cannot give you a decent pedicure if you keep moving your toes. I've already had to re-paint your left big one twice because of that."

"Sorry, Paigey," I said, thoroughly unconcerned. "Oh, and I think I changed my mind about the color, too. Black is so... thirty minutes ago. I want navy."

Paige forced a smile. "Let me go get it," she choked out, barely concealing her frustration. "Down at the nearest store, because we don't actually _have _navy nail polish..."

I shrugged. "Not my fault you don't have any cool colors. Maybe you should think of what _I'd _like next time you pick out nail polish."

"You've never...for even the slightest _nanosecond... _shown the tiniest desire to have your nails painted. _Ever," _she stressed vehemently.

I grinned wickedly. "Store closes in an hour, Paige. I want my navy polish."

"Dylan, aren't you supposed to be getting those chips?" Marco asked huffily. Dylan, his fists clenched dangerously tight around the bowl of remaining chip crumbs, stood up, striding past the couch Marco and I were sprawled out upon, and went to refill the bowl. He returned a moment later, shoving the newly filled bowl into my outstretched hand.

"There," he said, and I could practically hear the silent wish being added onto the sentence in his head, _I hope you choke on it._

"Thanks."

He plopped back on the floor in front of the couch, taking Paige's just vacated spot, as she'd gotten up to get her purse to go navy-nail-polish-shopping.

"Oh, Dyl, could you change the channel? This show's boring me."

"Marco, the remote is _two inches _from your hand," Dylan gritted out.

Marco gave him a look as if to say, _and your point is? _

Sighing, Dylan got up and grabbed the remote from the arm of the couch, where it had, indeed, been resting just inches from Marco's fingers. I smiled and closed my eyes, listening to my raven-haired friend continue to order Curly around. I adjusted the small ice pack on my right hand, where it rested gently against my bruised knuckles. Damn, I hit hard.

Somewhere in the back of the house, if you strained to listen, Paige's forgotten cell phone was ringing and vibrating violently across the kitchen counter. Probably Patricia again, who had apparently gotten the number from someone and had been calling my girlfriend religiously after her no-show for the whole podcast debate thing. Either that, or it was Paige and Dylan's parents calling again. They hadn't been the happiest of campers upon finding out about their children's little incident during their brief absence. I seem to remember a few words something along the lines of _'gone for twenty minutes, and all hell breaks loose' _and so on and so forth. They also hadn't exactly been thrilled upon learning I'd hit that bitch, Emily, though once Paige and I had hastily explained the situation, they had been considerably more sympathetic.

Ah, well. What are you going to do? They _are_ all Michalchuk's, after all. Insane, irritating, pains in the ass most of the time.

And I wouldn't change a thing.


End file.
